


the one moment that matters

by yugto



Series: here comes science! [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Filipino Yamaguchi Tadashi, M/M, Museums, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Science, Slow Burn, Summer Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25985719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yugto/pseuds/yugto
Summary: “He’s still like the human embodiment of a cactus but he’s gotten so handsome, Kenma, I think I’m losing my mind. This is my last summer here before I go back to Tokyo, so if anything’s gonna happen—” Kenma’s interjecting faint “mhm”s and “uh-huh”s throughout this panicked monologue, but there’s a faint clicking on his end that grows louder and louder as Tetsurou continues.“—I think it’s gotta be this summer,” Tetsurou concludes. A very clear GAME OVER rings out from Kenma’s end of the call. Now that he’s paying attention, he can see that Kenma’s playing on his 3DS. “Are you even listening to me?” he asks, injured.“It’s the same thing you’ve been saying since last summer. I reserve my right to tune out,” says Kenma, but he closes his 3DS.Tsukishima and Kuroo spend three years working summer camps together at the 3M Sendai City Science Museum. Neither of them is the greatest at dealing with feelings, but with a little help from their friends, they figure things out along the way.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi
Series: here comes science! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967587
Comments: 42
Kudos: 121





	1. i can't get next to you

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact about me: i spent summer 2018 and 2019 working science summer camps! honestly, this fic is just my incredibly nerdy love letter to that wonderfully unique experience. 
> 
> this fic is dedicated to my fellow camp counselors. i hope you never see this.
> 
> title comes from the one moment by ok go. [this fic has a playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/66XP0H4WNbMG9i2mwAMgAn?si=7kbIXJAMQy6SH7zbKofRJQ), for good "summer scientific shenanigans" vibes!

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2016_

The 3M Sendai City Science Museum is a striking building – all glass and concrete, with metal girders criss-crossing the front of the building. Located at the edge of Dainohara Forest Park, it is the premier science center in Miyagi Prefecture. 

It’s here that Kuroo Tetsurou has had the pleasure of working for the last two summers. Walking up the road to the museum, he pauses to snap a picture of the museum – _last summer here!! :(_ , he types. With a tap of his finger, he sends the text off to Kenma, sticks his phone back in the pocket of his cargo shorts, and makes his way up the path. 

This summer will be his third and final year working summer day camps at the Sendai Science Museum. Three years ago, he’d moved out to Sendai for university, wanting to try life outside of Tokyo for a change. Now, he’s in his senior year, and he’ll graduate and return to city life all too soon.

But for now, this is his last small-town summer. He’s going to make the most of it.

The first day of his last summer starts the same way as every other morning he’s worked here: he taps his ID on the scanner at the employee entrance, swings by the museum cafeteria to annoy the Miya twins into giving him a cup of coffee, and ambles through to the classrooms in the back where the summer camps take place. Most of the doors are still shut, but the room on the very left (one of the few rooms with reliable air conditioning) is already open. 

Inside, the operations leads, Suga and Takeda, are gathered around one of the large tables, surrounded by all the supplies needed to get a camp for budding scientists off the ground: camp t-shirts, backpacks packed with med kits, sets of walkie-talkies, and clipboards. So, so many clipboards. Suga is holding one of the said clipboards, peering at a spreadsheet open on his laptop and marking things off when Tetsurou enters the room.

“Welcome back, Kuroo!” beams Suga, putting down his clipboard and coming in for a hug. Despite the fact that the two of them only see each other for six weeks a year, they’ve established a pretty steady friendship over the past two summers of working together. Suga is a fourth-year, like Kuroo, but is unquestionably much more responsible than the other fourth-years working at the camp. He’s studying elementary education at the Miyagi University of Education, and the rumor is that he’s being trained to take over as the primary ops lead someday.

“Look at you, Ops Lead-san,” he grins, slapping Suga on the back. “Moving up in the world! Remember us little guys now that you’ve made it to the top.”

“You flatterer,” says Suga with a beatific smile, and steps out of the hug. He picks up his clipboard again and squints at the spreadsheet open on his laptop. “You know that’s not going to get you out of cafeteria duty.”

“Worth a shot,” Tetsurou shrugs, and grabs a med bag from the floor by Suga’s feet. “So, who do I get the pleasure of working with this summer?”

“Takeda-san has the schedule.” Suga waves his clipboard in Takeda’s direction. “Go bother him, I have to finish marking which students don’t need us to apply sunscreen this week.”

Takeda is a kind-faced, middle-aged man who has been the primary ops lead ever since Tetsurou started working here. He greets Tetsurou warmly, asking him how his past year has been, and hands him his camp shirt, a walkie-talkie, and a printout of this year’s schedule. The camp counselors’ T-shirt this year is aqua blue, with dinosaurs walking up a staircase shaped like a DNA helix printed on the front, and STAFF printed in large white letters on the back above the words _3M SENDAI CITY SCIENCE MUSEUM_. In the corner behind Takeda, piles and piles of bright red child-sized t-shirts bear the same design, minus the STAFF designation, and a smaller pile of light green t-shirts with the same design has a sticky note on top marking it for the high school aides.

The camp shirt goes over his tank top; the walkie-talkie clips to the belt of his cargo shorts; the blue med backpack goes over his shoulder. Equipped for a day of camp, he finally does a quick scan of this summer’s schedule. This summer, he’s working Space Aces with Tsukishima, then Smartest Artist with Daichi, Junior Programmers with Yamaguchi, Engineers in Training with Tsukishima, then he’s off week 5 to go visit home, and finally I Dig Dinosaurs with Tsukishima.

Three whole weeks with Tsukki. The gods are either really on his side this summer, or they must hate his guts. 

Tsukki ( _it’s Tsukishima_ , Tetsurou can almost hear his annoyed voice saying) is a Miyagi local and a second-year at Tohoku University, the same school Tetsurou attends. They’ve been working together for the past two summers, ever since Tsukki was a third-year at one of the local high schools. Outside of summer camp, though, their lives very rarely intersect. 

The man in question comes through the door, followed by Yamaguchi, his best friend, and a handful of the other camp counselors. “Mr. Refreshing!” Oikawa, another fourth-year counselor, beams, sweeping Suga up into a hug. “Who gets the pleasure of working with me this year?”

“Hopefully not me,” Tsukki deadpans, bypassing Oikawa and Suga to take a schedule and a camp t-shirt from Takeda. His eyes flicker down the schedule, scanning it. Oikawa squawks in the background, “You should be so lucky as to work with me, Glasses-kun!” 

“Suuure,” Tsukki drawls, putting his glasses down on the table and pulling the camp t-shirt over his head. As his head pokes out the top of his shirt, he makes eye contact with Tetsurou and rolls his eyes. “Looks like we’re working together again this year, Kuroo-san. Please take care of me.”

“Always so formal, Tsukki!” Tetsurou grins, pulling Tsukki into a headlock and ruffling his hair. It’s unexpectedly soft beneath his fingers; the short and spiky blonde hair from the past two years of camp has grown out into soft waves that frame his face nicely. 

While he’s processing this new fact, Tsukki predictably gripes, “It’s _Tsukishima_.” He takes advantage of Tetsurou’s shocked pause to extricate himself from Tetsurou’s grip and puts his glasses on. Around them, the usual first-day-of-camp happy reunions and excited introductions are playing out. Tetsurou makes eye contact with Yamaguchi, who is smirking for some reason.

“Welcome back to camp, everyone!” says Takeda, pitching his voice higher to be heard over the excited din. “If everyone’s picked up their things, I’d like to get our morning meeting started. This year, we have some new counselors starting with us. Please welcome…” 

🧬

Two and a half hours into the first day of camp, Tetsurou has confirmed two things: 1) another year of university has not noticeably improved Tsukki’s people skills but 2) he has, unfortunately, gotten more handsome. Looking at him, Tetsurou inadvertently thinks about what his hair felt like under his fingers that morning, and then panics.

There’s only one thing to do when dealing with this feeling.

“Hey, are you okay if I take my morning break?” he asks Tsukki. Their campers are in the middle of coloring maps of the solar system, which seems like a relatively stable place to leave them (ignoring the two second-graders who are squabbling over whether Saturn should be blue or red, anyway).

“Watanabe-kun and I can handle them.” Tsukki waves a crayon in the direction of their high school aide, who is crammed into a tiny chair alongside their second-graders gamely coloring his own map of the solar system. Kuroo flashes a two-fingered salute at the two of them, grabs his phone from his backpack, and escapes as Tsukki says behind him, “Takeshi-kun. Hitomi-chan. I hate to break it to you, but Saturn is orange.”

For the past two summers, his favorite place to take breaks has always been the observation deck behind the museum. It looks out over Dainohara Forest Park, an unexpectedly idyllic scrap of nature in the middle of Sendai City. Alone on the deck, he takes a deep breath of fresh air, opens up FaceTime, and hits the first name on his “Recent Calls” list. 

“Are you already having a crisis? It’s 10:30 AM,” Kenma says, when he picks up. He shuffles around, propping his phone up on what Tetsurou assumes is his nightstand. He’s sitting on his bed, slouched against the headboard with the blankets draped loosely over his legs; his hair is uncombed and messy, as if he’s just woken up. Knowing Kenma, that means he’s probably been awake for at least an hour, but hasn’t mustered the energy to get out of bed yet.

“Hello to you too, Kenma,” Tetsurou grumbles. He leans on the deck’s railing, looking out over the forest behind the museum. “Can’t I just call my best friend to say hi on my first day of work?” 

Kenma levels him with an unimpressed stare. Tetsurou is, once again, impressed at how effectively his best friend conveys emotions through the tiny screen of his phone. 

It doesn’t take him long to break. He takes a quick look over his shoulder to make sure no one else is taking their break on the deck, then starts. “Okay, so, I got assigned to three camps with Tsukki this summer.”

“There it is,” Kenma nods, looking satisfied with himself.

“And he’s still like the human embodiment of a cactus but he’s gotten _so_ handsome, Kenma, I think I’m losing my mind. This is my last summer here before I go back to Tokyo, so if anything’s gonna happen—” Kenma’s interjecting faint “mhm”s and “uh-huh”s throughout this panicked monologue, but there’s a faint clicking on his end that grows louder and louder as Tetsurou continues. 

“—I think it’s gotta be this summer,” Tetsurou concludes. A very clear _GAME OVER_ rings out from Kenma’s end of the call. Now that he’s paying attention, he can see that Kenma’s playing on his 3DS. “Are you even _listening_ to me?” he asks, injured.

“It’s the same thing you’ve been saying since last summer. I reserve my right to tune out,” says Kenma, but he closes his 3DS. “You’ve been pining after him for a year at least.” 

There are a whole host of objectionable items in that statement. Tetsurou’s brain, a little overwhelmed, picks the last thing to object to. That’s primacy recency in action, baby. “A whole _year?_ ” he protests. Kenma stares at him. “Really? I dated Daichi last year, you know!”

“I know.” Kenma’s fingers twitch on his 3DS, as if he’s fighting the urge to open it up again. Tetsurou appreciates his restraint. “Did you forget who sat there and listened to you waxing poetic about Sawamura’s thighs for the whole time?”

“They _are_ very nice thighs,” Tetsurou mumbles, in his own defense.

“Mhm,” says Kenma placatingly. “But when you weren’t mooning over Sawamura last summer, you’d talk about _Tsukki_ this, _Tsukki_ that. You thought about him a lot for someone who doesn’t talk to him outside of camp.”

Kenma’s perceptive nature means Tetsurou gets called out at least once a month, but today it feels especially pointed. “Kenmaaaaa,” he whines.

“Oh, would you look at that, your break is about to end. Go get ‘em, tiger,” says Kenma in a way that isn’t reassuring at all, and hangs up.

🧬

Later, at recess, Tsukki comes up to where Tetsurou’s sitting on a rock by the swing set. “I forgot to put sunscreen on before I left this morning.” He looks faintly annoyed; whether it’s with Tetsurou or with himself is anyone’s guess. “Can you spray me?”

“Yeah, sure,” says Tetsurou very eloquently, and fishes in the med bag for the spray-on sunscreen they keep for their campers. Standing up, he notes with some displeasure that Tsukki’s grown even taller since last summer – he towers over Tetsurou by at least five centimeters, if not more. “Here, hold your arms out.” 

Tsukki’s face is already a light pink when he holds his arms out. _It might be too late for him to escape unscathed_ , Tetsurou muses idly. He sprays Tsukki’s arms, then squirts some sunscreen into Tsukki’s cupped hands. “Here, put that on your face. Do you want me to do your legs too?”

“Yes, please,” Tsukki says, already setting to work on his face. Tetsurou thinks briefly about making Tsukki stick his leg out in the air like they make their campers do, then thinks better of it and drops into a squat to spray Tsukki’s legs.

“There. You’re good to go.”

“Thanks,” says Tsukki. Instead of just leaving, he props his leg up on the rock and massages the spray-on sunscreen into his skin. His legs are _so_ long. Tetsurou thinks that this summer, maybe, he is going to lose his mind.

* * *

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2014_

The first time Kei met Kuroo Tetsurou, he was a third-year at Karasuno High School, and Kuroo was a second-year at Tohoku University.

Back then, Kei was almost two meters of snark and sarcasm – so tall, most of the counselors mistook him for a college student before he put on the bright green T-shirt all the high school aides wore. He and Yamaguchi had signed on together to be aides for the museum’s day camps, because both of their mothers had shooed them out of their homes to “do something productive with your last summer of high school!”

Working summer camps wasn’t too bad of a deal, for the most part. According to the counselors and the ops leads, Kei and Yamaguchi were some of the more reliable high school aides that year (although, predictably, some of the counselors whispered amongst each other that Kei’s manner with kids could have used some work). After camp ended for the day, the two of them spent their afternoons studying for college entrance exams in the museum cafeteria, working their way through practice problems, strawberry milkshakes, and baskets of fries.

For the most part, working summer camps wasn’t too bad of a deal. It was just _Kuroo Tetsurou_ that was the problem.

“They really just threw me off the deep end,” Kei said to Yamaguchi at lunch on the first day of camp, with very thinly veiled disgust. His face hinted that he might have wanted to say something worse, but they were surrounded by chattering eight-year-olds on all sides.

“Working with new people builds character, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said sagely, although it came out a little muffled through a mouthful of cafeteria spaghetti.

“ _You_ weren’t assigned to a camp with Kuroo-san and Bokuto-san, you’re literally with our senpai from high school,” Kei countered, poking at the meatball perched atop his untouched spaghetti. “And are Daichi and Suga-san like...” Here, he waved his hand vaguely in the direction of Kuroo and Bokuto, who were, at that moment, racing the fifth-graders at their table to see who could finish their spaghetti first. Both of them had noodles hanging out of their mouths, and the fifth-graders were caught up in fits of hysterical laughter. “Like this, with you?”

“Masahiko-kun, your soup bowl is not a cup, put that down and use your spoon,” Yamaguchi said pleasantly to the third-grader next to him, then turned to Kei and said in the exact same tone, “Eat your lunch and stop complaining, Tsukki.” His words held the infinite patience of a young man who had spent almost his entire life dealing with this shit. Masahiko giggled. Kei nobly ignored the urge to glare at the kid.

“Shuuuu-” Kei abruptly remembered that to their tablemates, _shut up_ was considered a “bad word”, and deftly changed course. “Shush, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki!” grinned Yamaguchi, without a single shred of contrition.

🧬

The problem, Kei reflected glumly, was that in spite of literally everything about them, he _was_ learning a lot from Kuroo and Bokuto. Sure, their infinite energy sometimes made Kei feel like he was dealing with twenty-two campers, instead of twenty campers and two counselors. Throughout that week, it was unclear which was more explosive: the bottle rockets their campers were building to launch on the back lawn, or Kuroo and Bokuto’s combined energy. But they were really, _really_ good with their campers, infinitely positive even when Kei started to get a little snappy with them. 

“How do you stay so patient with the campers?” Kei asked one day during recess. That morning, he’d almost driven one of their campers to tears trying to explain why she couldn’t attach the fins on her rocket upside-down. Kuroo had intervened, talked both of them down, and then let the camper put the fins on upside-down anyway. The rocket had failed spectacularly when it launched. Kuroo had said with a grin, _Well, now you know what not to do next time! Why do you think it didn’t fly?_ The camper had, incredibly, started putting together theories about her rocket’s failure, instead of arguing – as she had with Kei – that putting her fins on upside-down had been the right thing to do.

“Well,” Kuroo said thoughtfully, “when I was in elementary school, I had a terrible science teacher. Actually the worst. He was _so_ boring – he just talked at us all the time, and whenever you got an answer wrong he’d totally jump down your throat for it.”

“How does this relate to my question, Kuroo-san?”

“I’m getting there!” Kuroo waved his hands at Kei in a universal _shut up_ gesture. It was kind of stupidly endearing, on a university student. “Let me finish! In junior high I had a new science teacher, and she was okay with us being wrong. She let us experiment and get our hands dirty and come up with our own explanations, and _then_ she’d come in and confirm what we were saying or point out where we were wrong. And I learned a lot more that way.” 

In that moment, he was the most animated Kei had seen him all week, even more so than when he’d been racing Bokuto to see who could finish their spaghetti first. “I guess what I’m saying is, you’ve gotta be patient with kids, because if you’re always tearing them down, they’ll never see how fun science can be, you know? I think once you get that moment where you see science at work in your own life, something inside of you sits up and says, _I could spend the rest of my life learning more about this_. Take me. I saw something blow up in seventh grade, I thought that was cool, now I’m studying chemistry.”

“You studied chemistry because you thought explosions were cool.” Kei blinks. “I suppose that sounds like you.”

“Coming from someone who’s known me for four days? You wound me, Tsukki!”

🧬

The summer went by in a blur. After camp ended each day, Kei and Yamaguchi consumed more strawberry milkshakes and french fries than they really wanted to think about, studying for their entrance exams in the museum cafeteria. Week after week, Kei rotated around the camps, thinking about what Kuroo had said. 

He hated to admit it, but the conversation had come at a good time. College entrance exams were rapidly approaching, and soon he’d have to meet with their counselor to discuss that faintly terrifying, not-so-far-off concept: _what do you want to do after high school?_ He was on the college prep track, and a future at university was all but guaranteed – but exactly what he would study when he got there, he still didn’t know.

_Something inside of you sits up and says, I could spend the rest of my life learning more about this._

Kei had never experienced a moment like that at any point of his life, let alone a science class. The life crisis continued. He tried not to think too much about it.

For the last week of summer, he was assigned as Kuroo and Daichi’s aide for the Junior Paleontologists camp. It was clear that the end-of-summer blues were hitting everyone particularly hard, especially their fifth- and sixth-graders. They were taking a leaf out of the middle schoolers’ book, complaining and generally doing their best to be nuisances. In Kei’s opinion, they had been wildly successful so far. Daichi had glared at him when he’d voiced that thought, though.

Since the campers didn’t particularly want to do any of the activities they had planned for the day, Daichi and Kuroo had made the executive decision to take them to the museum’s dinosaur exhibit instead, in the hope that they would at the very least learn _something_ about the camp’s topic. (From what Kei gathered on the walk to the exhibit, most of their campers were planning a game of hide-and-seek among the dinosaurs. It didn’t seem particularly educational, but he supposed that they’d burn off energy, if nothing else.)

Kei perched himself on a bench near the entrance to the exhibit, keeping a watchful eye on the campers to make sure no one left the area. Across the room, he could see Daichi stationed by the other entrance, scanning for any overt mischief. Kuroo made slow circuits of the exhibit, politely ignoring the campers squished into crevices and crouched under benches.

“Tsukishima-saaan.” Mina, one of the campers, flopped down next to him on the bench. “This exhibit’s so _boring._ I don’t get it. Why’s it so important to learn about dinosaurs when they’re all gone now?”

For once, Kei was faced with a question he was fully qualified to answer. The night before, Akiteru had dragged Kei into watching a dinosaur documentary with him, where one of the paleontologists they’d interviewed had rhapsodized about that very topic. Kei reached back into his memory, trying to pull out the bits that a fifth-grader might appreciate.

“Well,” he started, “when you think about it, the dinosaurs were incredible. We’ve found their fossils all over the world; we know that they were able to live on land, in the seas, even fly in the skies. So they were incredibly adaptable. And the dinosaurs are some of the earliest examples we have of how animals evolve traits to survive. See that Stegosaurus over there?” 

He gestured to the Stegosaurus skeleton across the walkway from them. (There wasn’t a single real bone in the skeleton – it was made completely of plaster, not that the campers really knew or cared.) Gradually picking up momentum, he continued. “The spikes on its tail helped it defend itself against predators. The plates on its back were mostly for display, so it could attract mates, but they also helped it manage its own body temperature, so it never overheated or froze. Even though Stegosauruses are long gone, we can see some of those same aspects reflected in modern-day animals.”

“Huh. Like how birds do those weird dances to get girlfriends?” Mina asked. Kei thought briefly to himself, not for the first time that summer, that kids really did seize on the strangest points. “My big sister showed me a video of that on YouTube. Have you seen it? The bird has a funny face on its wings.”

Kei took a second to regroup. “Birds are a good example, actually. You said the dinosaurs are all gone now, but do you remember the seagull that attacked Bokuto-san on the playground yesterday?”

Bokuto had taken some of his french fries from lunch out to the playground at recess, and had been standing there peacefully eating when a seagull had swooped in and knocked the entire paper boat of fries out of his hands. After that, it looked Bokuto in the eye as it ate them all. Bokuto had been inconsolable for the rest of the day. Mina snickered at the memory. “Yeah. What about it?” 

“That seagull was a dinosaur.”

“No way, Tsukishima-san! You’re kidding, right?”

“Would I lie to you?” Kei deadpanned. He must have looked pretty convincing, because Mina shook her head. “Today’s birds evolved from dinosaurs. And now there are three times as many birds on Earth as there are mammals. So, if you think about it, the dinosaurs still walk among us. Or fly among us, I guess.”

He looked down at Mina to find her staring up at him, eyes alight with wonder. “Wow, Tsukishima-san,” she chirped, “you actually made dinosaurs sound pretty cool! You almost sounded like a teacher right there!” Sliding off the bench, she wandered off into the exhibit, peering closely at the Stegosaurus on display.

In front of him, someone came to a stop, blocking Mina and the Stegosaurus from view. He looked up to see Kuroo staring at him in surprise. _I could spend the rest of my life learning more about this_ , his words echoed in Kei’s mind.

 _Oh,_ Kei thought to himself in that moment. _I think I get it._

🧬

At the end of their first summer, after their campers had all said their last goodbyes and gone home, Kei looked Kuroo in the eye and said, “Thank you for this summer, Kuroo-san. I learned a lot from you.”

It was probably the nicest he’d been to Kuroo all summer, and he could tell it had knocked the older boy off balance; a brief look of surprise flashed over Kuroo’s face before his familiar shit-eating grin replaced it. “Oho? Are you, perhaps, going to miss me, Tsukki?”

“It’s _Tsukishima_ , and absolutely not,” Kei snapped, turning away to hide the smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. “Next summer I’ll be a camp teacher too, so watch out.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be great, because you learned everything you know from me.” Kuroo grinned, throwing his arm over Kei’s shoulder. Normally, Kei would politely extricate himself from a situation like this as soon as possible. But there, in the midst of an argument over which camp counselor had taught him the most in the past six weeks, Kei let himself luxuriate in the warmth of the last days of summer, and stayed under Kuroo’s arm.

“Tsukki, come on, your brother texted us to say he’s outside–” Yamaguchi stopped in the doorway, a grin slowly spreading over his face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” said Kei, gracefully shrugging Kuroo’s arm off his shoulder. “I’ll see you next summer, Kuroo-san.”


	2. life, uh, finds a way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which quintessential summer 2016 activities happen: the gang watches _Jurassic World_ , and Kuroo plays Pokémon Go. Also, Tsukishima swaps out one life crisis for another, and Yamaguchi is a great wingman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa! i said i would update on wednesdays and there are still 5 minutes left in wednesday. nailed it.
> 
> rating upped to T for language. also, this chapter contains some kurodai if that's not your cup of tea. obviously (gesturing at tags) that is not endgame, but it's a significant part of this chapter!

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2016_

“Alright, campers,” says Daichi in his best Dad Voice, “I don’t know what’s in the water this morning, but it’s got all of you _bouncing_ off the walls.” It’s Monday morning of the second week of camp. He and Tetsurou are running Smartest Artist this week, and they’ve broken up three paint fights already; the proof of their intervention is splattered across their camp counselor t-shirts. “We’re going to go outside and burn off some energy, okay?”

“Recess! Recess!” the kids chant, jumping up and down.

“Looks like that’s a yes,” Tetsurou grins, and he and Daichi spend the next five minutes corralling the kids into a line and shepherding them outside. Once they hit the playground behind the building, six of the kids rope him into a game of foursquare, five more drag Daichi off toward the soccer field, and the rest run screaming for the swing set.

The younger kids are big fans of asking borderline invasive questions on the playground, and today’s no exception. Just as Tsubomi, the camper in square A, serves the ball, Ami, one of the littlest campers, asks, “Kuroo-san, are you married to Tsukki-san?”

“Huh?” Tetsurou is taken aback, both by the question and the fact that the youngest campers apparently call him _Tsukki-san._ That’s so _cute. What the fuck._ Shuuya in square B takes advantage of this momentary distraction to spike the ball directly at his feet; Tetsurou dives and misses the ball completely. As the other kids in the game crow with laughter, he exits his square and moves to stand in the line next to Ami, squatting down to be more at her eye level.

“Well,” says Ami, “you’re a grown-up, and grown-ups get married, right?”

“Some grown-ups wait until after college to get married,” Tetsurou answers, still processing. “I’m one of them. Why Tsukki – uh, Tsukishima-san?”

“Well, you always stand together at recess,” Ami says very seriously, like that’s a legitimate reason to be married. Tetsurou covers up his laugh with a cough.

🧬

“Did the kids ask _you_ about marriage?” Tetsurou asks Daichi. They’re sitting on a rock by the swings at the edge of the playground, watching the campers run amok. Ten minutes ago, Daichi had been cruelly kneecapped by a camper aiming for the soccer ball, and had made the executive decision to step out of the game; Tetsurou, on the other hand, had begged out of foursquare as soon as the kids figured out they could just spike the ball at his feet for an easy out. (All his days of high school volleyball diving drills are no good when he’s playing on concrete.)

“They asked me if I was married to Suga,” says Daichi, applying an ice pack to his knee with a wince. “First-graders really do think we’re real adults, huh? Or maybe they were just trying to distract me. Kousuke-kun got me in the knee right after that.”

Looking at Daichi’s slowly purpling knee, Tetsurou resists the urge to make a joke involving the words _and then I took an arrow in the knee_. Instead, he offers a rueful smirk. “They asked me if I was married to Tsukki because I always stand with him at recess.”

As if on cue, Ami hollers across the playground from where she’s standing in line for foursquare, “ _Kuroo-san_ , _why are you standing with Sawamura-san? Are you cheating on Tsukishima-san?!_ ”

Tetsurou cups his hands around his mouth and hollers back, “ _I’m not married, Ami-chan!_ ”

“Would you like to be?” Daichi asks.

“Oh?” Tetsurou places the back of his hand on his forehead in his most over-the-top impression of a yamato nadeshiko, leaning dramatically against Daichi. “My my, Daichi-san, are you _proposing to me_? Right here, on the playground? How romantic. I’m swooning.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of Ami opening her mouth as if to start yelling. Before she can start, Daichi says “Ha ha,” mirthlessly, and elbows Tetsurou in the ribs, neatly knocking him off the rock and into the grass. “We broke up for a reason, Kuroo,” he continues over Tetsurou’s loud complaints.

“ _I don’t think he’s cheating on Tsukki-san_ ,” Kousuke yells across the playground back to Ami, who flashes a grin and a thumbs up. On the ground, Tetsurou continues to whine until Daichi rolls his eyes and helps him up.

* * *

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2015_

If you asked Kei, the idea that kids didn’t notice things was utter bullshit.

Just because kids didn’t know as much as adults – and even that idea, Kei thought, might be debatable – didn’t mean they weren’t always watching, observing the world around them. He remembered, acutely, being six and being talked to like he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. It was one reason he talked to his campers like they were tiny adults – he figured that treating them like anything less was a disservice to both them and him. (After receiving some pointed feedback last summer, he’d had to grudgingly adopt a slightly softer approach than he used with real adults. But the principle of the thing remained.)

Anyway. Case in point: that year’s first- and second-graders. Their six- and seven-year-old brains might not always correctly interpret what they were seeing, but they were incredibly observant. His first summer as an actual camp counselor, Kei was assigned with Kuroo to lead the Smartest Artist camp. On the first day of camp, he’d sat down with the kids and painted as accurate of a Stegosaurus as he could with their set of ten colors. Once the campers picked up on Kei’s love for dinosaurs, he was barraged with gifts of dinosaur paintings. Later in the week, Yamaguchi would politely point out that there was no more space on their fridge for dinosaur paintings.

Another thing that Kei’s campers had picked up: Daichi and Kuroo, that summer, were very close. Perhaps, as one of the older campers put it, they might be a Thing with a capital T. This, unlike Kei’s love for dinosaurs, was slightly more complicated. Loving something long gone like dinosaurs, to the young minds of Kei’s campers, was about as meaningful as loving an anime, or loving your favorite class. Sure, something might come out of it – you might be able to talk about fossils, or become an expert on Naruto hand signs, or get really good at math – but relationships didn’t come out of those kinds of things. But loving the counselor who worked in the camp next door to you? That was _real life_.

Thankfully, the kids weren’t weird about two guys dating; given that it seemed like there wasn't a single straight counselor at camp, things would have gotten awkward pretty quickly. The kids, Kei thought, were alright. In fact, they were incredibly accepting, but here lay the problem: using typical kid logic ( _anyone older than eighteen is a Grown-Up; most of the Grown-Ups I know are married; therefore, the Grown-Ups who are my camp teachers are probably married_ ), they had come to the conclusion that Kuroo and Daichi were married.

Kei imagined that being under the intense scrutiny of a bunch of kids must have exerted even more pressure on Kuroo and Daichi than the idea of telling their parents did. Their parents weren’t in the same building as them for six hours a day; in Kuroo’s case, they weren’t even in the same prefecture. The campers, however, were, and enjoyed pestering the both of them with questions about their relationship. _Kuroo-san, are you and Sawamura-san married? You always play with Sawamura-san at recess!_

Unfortunately for Kei, it seemed like he had a front row seat to all of these conversations. He supposed he should be thankful that the kids weren’t asking _him_ if he was married to Yamaguchi or something of the like – improbable, given the fact that Yamaguchi and Yachi were approaching their one-year anniversary this summer – but something rankled about being in the front row for all these relationships, while not really having one of his own.

Loving something long gone, like dinosaurs, was one thing; loving the counselor who worked in the camp next door was another.

(And recently realizing that you had complicated feelings for your co-counselor, who kind of helped you figure out what you wanted to do with your life last summer and who was currently dating the counselor in the camp next door? Another thing _entirely_.)

🧬

Kei watched _Jurassic Park_ for the first time at the tender age of six, and came away having learned three important things: bringing dinosaurs back, no matter how cool it seemed, probably wouldn’t end well; being too greedy might get you eaten by a dinosaur; and, of course, Dr. Malcolm’s famous line, “ _Life, uh, finds a way._ ”

He grew up, and some of those lessons were no longer as applicable. The potential of bringing dinosaurs back grew higher year after year, but no one seemed too keen on going through with it. Stories of human greed filled the newspapers every day, but the dinosaurs of life (either metaphorical or literal) never made them face the consequences of their actions. But through all of Kei’s tumultuous years of growing up, Dr. Malcolm’s words still rang true: _Life finds a way._ You lived and you learned how to protect yourself. You saw what happened to people who put their all into something, only for it to end in failure. You didn’t want to get hurt like that; you decided not to try too hard; you put up walls to keep yourself safe. Life found a way to go on.

All this was to say that whatever Kei was feeling for Kuroo Tetsurou, it _wasn’t_ a crush. He absolutely refused to call it a crush. He tried not to even _think_ about it, as much as possible.

So maybe it wasn’t surprising that he really, _really_ didn’t want to talk about it. He became even more withdrawn whenever Kuroo and Daichi’s relationship was brought up, a feat which his fellow counselors hadn’t previously considered possible. Yamaguchi, being the saint that he was, didn’t ask questions. Unfortunately, being the perceptive asshole he was, Kuroo did.

“Tsukishima,” he said, the Friday of the second week of camp. The one word started alarm bells ringing in Kei’s brain; he felt a brief surge of disgust at how quickly he’d accepted being called _Tsukki_. “You haven’t been talking to me lately. The campers are starting to ask questions.”

Kei _had_ tried his best not to let his teenage bullshit get across to the campers; they didn’t need to deal with him dealing with what was Not A Crush. But, he thought ruefully, of course they’d picked up on it. The idea that kids didn’t notice things was utter bullshit.

“I just wanted to talk to you one-on-one.” Kuroo was being annoyingly mature about the whole conversation – abruptly, Kei was reminded that for all his acting like an oversized kid, he _was_ in fact two years older than Kei. “We’ve got four weeks of camp left. If this messes with our dynamic, it’s gonna affect the rest of our summer. So. What gives? It’s not the fact that I’m gay, right?” 

The tone of his voice seemed eerily familiar. It took Kei a moment to place it as an approximation of what he called Daichi’s “Lecturing The Underclassmen” voice, and what Yamaguchi called Daichi’s “Disappointed Dad” voice, although there was a faint overtone of challenge running through it that was unmistakably Kuroo. Tamping down the brief flare of irritation he felt at that, he said coolly, “It would be pretty hypocritical of me. I don’t think there’s a single straight counselor at this camp.”

“Oh,” said Kuroo very eloquently, before he recovered. “Huh. Well. Thank you for trusting me with that information. Since we’ve got that cleared up, what’s eating you? Was it something I did, Tsukishima?”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” said Kei. The silence stretched between them for a moment or two; then, because the _Tsukishima_ hanging in the air was getting too awkward to ignore, he mumbled awkwardly, “You can keep calling me Tsukki. If you want.”

Kuroo stared at him for a minute, before he slowly broke into a smile. “Aw, Tsukki!” He slung an arm around Kei’s shoulders, grinning. “You _do_ care!”

“Ugh. Don’t make me retract that,” Kei griped, trying fruitlessly to break out of Kuroo’s grip.

It was still a little awkward between them for the next week, but slowly, Kei got the feeling that they were returning to the dynamic they’d had that first summer. He filed away the memory of Kuroo’s smile and the feeling of his arm around Kei’s shoulders into a mental folder of Things Not To Think About, right next to the memory of the time he’d caught Kuroo pecking Daichi on the cheek as he headed out for the day.

Maybe compartmentalizing like that wasn’t the best way to deal with feelings, but hey, you did what you had to do to protect yourself. _Life finds a way._

🧬

Later that summer, Kei was in the middle of unlocking the door to their apartment one day when Yamaguchi asked, “Did you hear Daichi and Kuroo broke up?”

Kei scoffed, twisting the key in the lock and shouldering the door open. “You’re such a gossip.” 

“Just keeping you in the loop!” Yamaguchi chirped, following Kei through the door. Toeing his sneakers off, he shoved them into the shoe rack. As Kei sat down on the floor to untie his shoelaces, he continued to chatter. “Today on the playground, one of my campers was asking Kuroo why he and Daichi don’t stand together at recess anymore. Kuroo told him they decided they were better as friends than as boyfriends.”

“Hm,” said Kei, putting his sneakers away neatly on his side of the shoe rack and following Yamaguchi to the kitchen.

“Is it weird to say Suga will be happy about that?” Yamaguchi opened the fridge door, gazing at its contents with a critical eye before he pulled out a container of orange juice. Kei reached over his shoulder to pull a container of strawberries from the top shelf. “You know he’s been in love with Daichi since we were in high school.”

“Mm-hmm.” Kei closed the fridge and retreated to the kitchen table, strawberries in hand. 

Yamaguchi poured himself a glass of juice. As he put the juice back in the fridge, he turned to face Kei with a shit-eating grin. “Anyway, so there’s totally room for you to make a move on Kuroo.” 

“Oh my god – shut _up_ , Yamaguchi!” Kei threw a strawberry at Yamaguchi. It bounced off his chest and into his glass of juice, splashing all over his camp t-shirt. Yamaguchi burst into startled laughter; the situation was so stupid, Kei couldn’t help but laugh too.

Eventually, their laughs faded into giggles. Yamaguchi patted his shirt dry with a handful of napkins, then returned to his search for snacks, quietly warbling one of those old Filipino songs that his mom used to blast all the time when they were kids: _Magkahawak ang ating kamay, at walang kamalay-malay, na tinuruan mo ang puso ko na umibig ng tunay…_

* * *

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2016_

Later that week, it’s pouring outside, so Tetsurou is forced to take his morning break in the ops lead office instead of on the observation deck. As he walks into the office, his phone buzzes with a text from Kenma.

 **kenmacat** 10:30 AM  
can u send me pkgo gifts pls

 **Me** 10:30 AM  
weeeeellllll since you said please

 **kenmacat** 10:31 AM  
…  
why do i feel like im one of ur campers

 **Me** 10:32 AM  
:3c  
ok i’m gonna go spin some pokestops for you brb

For Tetsurou, this might be the last summer of his collegiate life, and by extension his last chance to get to know his favorite prickly co-counselor a little better; for Kenma, it’s simply the summer of Pokémon Go. Since its release a couple of weeks ago, Kenma has rapidly been rising through the ranks of Team Valor, on a quest to be the very best like no one ever was; Tetsurou is sitting somewhere near the very bottom, since he only really plays to catch any Pokémon that resemble cats and be Kenma’s personal gift farm.

Which brings him to now, squished into the corner of the ops lead office, opening Pokémon Go on his phone. There’s a Pokéstop at one of the exhibits that’s just barely reachable from the ops lead office, if you sit in the very corner, hold your phone above your head, and tilt it just so. He’s maneuvering himself into position to spin it when Yamaguchi walks in.

“Oh, Kuroo-san! I’ve been meaning to ask – do you want to come over to watch _Jurassic World_ with Tsukki and me this weekend?” Yamaguchi asks. Tetsurou startles, almost drops his phone on his face, and somehow manages to spin the Pokéstop anyway. He rearranges himself into a more normal position as Yamaguchi continues. “My girlfriend is visiting this week and we all wanted to watch it together on Friday, but I don’t want him to feel like he’s third-wheeling, you know?”

Tetsurou, who has third-wheeled on many, _many_ movie nights with Bokuto and Akaashi since they all moved out to Sendai, thinks briefly that Yamaguchi is a much kinder soul than his friends are. He files it away in the back of his mind to complain about later. “Bokuto and Akaashi and I were actually supposed to hang out this Friday,” he says, and Yamaguchi’s face falls, “but I dunno, do you think they’d like _Jurassic World_?”

“Oh, we can ask!” Yamaguchi beams. His smile is absolutely infectious; Tetsurou wonders, not for the first time, how such a ball of sunshine became _Tsukki’s_ best friend. They fall into a comfortable silence. Tetsurou busies himself with sending the gifts he got from the Pokéstop to Kenma, and annoying him with some emoji-ridden texts; Yamaguchi taps away at his phone, probably texting his girlfriend. The silence is only broken when Akaashi pushes open the door of the ops lead office.

“Oh, Akaashi-san! We were just talking about you.” Yamaguchi looks up from his phone, making a gesture at Kuroo that seems to say _Go ahead, you ask him._

“Oh, really,” says Akaashi.

“How do you feel about watching _Jurassic World_ on Friday, Akaashi? Yamaguchi invited us so that Tsukki doesn’t feel like he’s third-wheeling." 

Akaashi’s eyes narrow and he nails Tetsurou with a piercing glare. “So you’re inviting another couple along so you and Tsukishima-san can fifth and sixth wheel instead?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds stupid.” 

Akaashi is quiet for a moment. Yamaguchi watches the two of them intently, eyes flicking back and forth as if he’s watching a tennis match. “I mean, we’re free anyway,” he says, perhaps swayed by Yamaguchi’s puppy-dog eyes. I’ll ask Bokuto.”

Tetsurou’s walkie-talkie crackles. “Kuroo, are you almost done with your break? Rin and Haru are having a paint fight again,” Daichi says, sounding very tired. 

“Duty calls,” says Tetsurou, flashing a two-fingered salute at the two of them, and ducks out of the office. “Let me know what Bokuto says!”

🧬

From what Tetsurou knows of Tsukki, he keeps his personal life and his work life almost completely separate, Yamaguchi and other high school friends aside. Perhaps it’s a holdover from his days as a high school aide, where they legally couldn’t invite him out to the counselors’ hangouts (where “hangouts” meant “everyone goes to Oikawa’s apartment for a Mario Kart tournament and gets smashed on cheap soju”); or maybe it’s just that Tsukki is an incredibly antisocial person, and everyone knows it.

So it’s not surprising that Tetsurou has almost never seen Tsukki outside of camp. Even though they both attend Tohoku University, their classes are at different campuses: Tsukki, as a second-year, has been at the Kawauchi campus for the past two years, while Kuroo spends all his days at the Aobayama campus. Sure, their campuses are less than fifteen minutes apart, but if there’s one thing Tetsurou knows about Tsukki, it’s that he doesn’t go out of his way for anything.

All this is to say that seeing Tsukki outside of his usual camp outfit is a shock that perhaps Tetsurou wasn’t prepared for. He’s swapped out his usual camp t-shirt and chino shorts for black skinny jeans that cling to his long, long legs and a gray, short-sleeved button-up shirt. A small temporary tattoo of a Triceratops with a colorful ruff sits on his left forearm. Text running below the Triceratops’ head reads _3M Sendai City Science Museum_.

“Nice ink,” Tetsurou snickers, falling into step with him. In front of them, Bokuto and Akaashi are talking animatedly with Yamaguchi and his tiny girlfriend – Yachi? – about the konbini where they’re going to pick up food before they head over to Tsukki and Yamaguchi’s apartment. It’s apparently a favorite of theirs; Yachi, although she looks mildly terrified, is enthusiastically recommending the onigiri.

“Yamaguchi found them at the front desk. He wouldn’t stop pestering me until I got one, too.” Tsukki gestures toward Yamaguchi, who’s sporting a matching tattoo on the back of his hand, then narrows his eyes at Tetsurou. “But I don’t think you have any room to talk, Kuroo-san. Isn’t that shirt from the museum gift shop?”

The button-down Tetsurou is wearing is maroon, with a pattern of tiny white Erlenmeyer flasks stitched into the fabric. It is the kind of nerdy material that was undoubtedly found in _some_ science museum, if not the 3M Sendai City Science Museum specifically. “Yeah,” he admits, defeated. “What else is our employee discount good for?”

Tsukki just laughs and laughs. “What a nerd,” he says, in between giggles.

“What kind of disrespect for elders is this?” Tetsurou huffs. “Back in _my_ day –”

“Okay, _old man_ ,” Tsukki rolls his eyes. They’re coming up on the konbini now; Bokuto and Yamaguchi are hotly debating the best fillings for onigiri, while Yachi and Akaashi have drifted off into a conversation of their own. “Hey, when we go to the konbini, can you get us some soju?”

“First you call me an old man, then you turn around and take advantage of my age,” Tetsurou complains. 

“We’re the ones third-wheeling on what is essentially a double date,” Tsukki points out sensibly. “If anyone needs soju tonight, it’s us.”

🧬

Despite the fact that it’s approximately the size of a shoebox, Tsukki and Yamaguchi’s apartment is cute. Framed pictures on the wall follow Tsukki and Yamaguchi all the way from childhood to the past summer; some of the pictures feature familiar faces from camp. Tetsurou realizes, belatedly, that a good handful of Miyagi’s best and brightest science students have ended up as his fellow counselors.

The main room serves as a combination living room and kitchen. The “kitchen” parts of it run along the left wall, with a fridge, sink, stove, and very minimal counter space. A little closer to the middle of the room, there’s a kitchen table that, judging by the piles of textbooks and notebooks, doubles as a workspace for Tsukki and Yamaguchi. On the right side of the room, a TV sits on a low stand, across from a nice L-shaped couch that looks like it seats about four people. 

For some inexplicable reason, there’s also an enormous beanbag on the floor in front of the couch. Tetsurou estimates it must be six feet across; it takes up all the space where a coffee table would normally be. “Akiteru – my older brother – was moving out of his place and didn’t want to take it with him, so he dumped it on me,” Tsukki says when Tetsurou asks, politely, what the fuck is up with this decor choice. “It was an impulse buy, I suppose.”

“Tsukki falls asleep on it sometimes,” Yamaguchi says confidentially, clearing the kitchen table.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi, so do you,” Tsukki grumbles, picking up a stack of his things. The tips of his ears are red; it’s incredibly endearing, on such a cactus of a person. “You can put the takeout on the table, I’ll just put these away.”

They sit around the newly-cleared table to eat their onigiri, then each grab a bottle of soju and move over to the TV. As Tsukki hooks his laptop up to the TV, Bokuto enthusiastically claims half the couch for himself and Akaashi, and Yamaguchi and Yachi cuddle up on the other half. There is absolutely no room for either Tsukki or Tetsurou to fit on there.

“Guess it’s just you and me on the beanbag, Tsukki!” Tetsurou flops down onto the beanbag in question. It’s surprisingly comfortable – he can see why Tsukki might accidentally fall asleep on it sometimes. Tsukki gingerly sits down next to him, a bottle of soju cradled carefully in his hands.

Watching movies with Tsukki and the rest of them turns out to be pretty fun. Bokuto, predictably, fanboys over Chris Pratt’s character; Akaashi, Tetsurou knows from many years of movie nights, is used to this, and delivers some dry commentary of his own. Yachi and Yamaguchi are easily startled, and squeak and curl into each other with every jump scare, much to everyone else’s amusement. But the highlight of the night is Tsukki: with the soju loosening his tongue, he keeps up a running commentary on what the movie got right and what it got incredibly wrong. As the movie goes by, he relaxes into the beanbag, until he’s warm against Tetsurou’s side.

This isn’t a date, obviously. If anything, they’re third-wheeling on a double date. But it almost feels like it _could_ be a date.

Surreptitiously, Tetsurou snaps a selfie and sends it to Kenma. Kenma probably won’t be able to tell him what the fuck is going on here, but Tetsurou thinks he deserves the update.

 **Me** 10:05 PM  
[ _Image: A dark, sort of blurry photo of Tsukishima and Tetsurou. Tetsurou is grinning at the camera; Tsukishima is looking at the screen, and looks to be complaining about something happening onscreen. They are lit by the glow from the television._ ]  
kenma  
help  
is this a date?????

 **kenmacat** 10:07 PM  
sure looks like one  
go get em tiger

Tetsurou pockets his phone and has a miniature crisis. _Is_ he on a date? A triple date with two of his best friends and two of Tsukki’s best friends – and sneakily set up by Tsukki’s best friend, no less?

Onscreen, the _Indominus rex_ starts to fight the park’s _Tyrannosaurus rex_ ; Yachi gasps, Bokuto whoops and cheers, and Tsukki just laughs, apparently out of witty commentary for the time being. Tetsurou relaxes into the beanbag, enjoying the moment. This moment, watching the _Mosasaurus_ surge up from the depths to eat the _Indominus rex_ in this dark room with Tsukki and his friends, is what matters right now. The crisis can wait until later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my filipino-japanese yamaguchi headcanon sneakily makes an appearance! the song he's singing is [ang huling el bimbo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5Zt_FB4RtE), which is a very sad song disguised as an upbeat rock song. most of it doesn't apply to this story, but the lines he sings are translated as "we're holding hands without noticing / that you've taught my heart how to truly love".
> 
> hope you liked it! see you next week - hopefully i'll update at a more sensible time of day next time!


	3. this love bug again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukishima suffers the mortifying ordeal of the counselor group chat. Kuroo deals with computer bugs and real bugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a day late! i'm in the middle of a research project and it's eating up all my time. hope you enjoy this week's update! we finally get a modern-day tsukki pov!
> 
> note that there are some conversations in tagalog that happen near the end of this chapter; translations are provided at the endnotes, but tsukki doesn't understand them anyway. for the real tsukki experience, you can go without translations and just know yamaguchi is lovingly gossiping.

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2016_

At least once every summer since he started working at the museum, Kei has been assigned to Tough To Be A Bug, a camp which – surprise, surprise – is all about bugs. He’s got the sneaking suspicion that the ops leads keep assigning him to this camp because he’s one of the few counselors who doesn’t flip their shit when presented with a large insect.

Because the pool of counselors that are okay with bugs is so small, Kei usually ends up working this camp with either Oikawa, who’s a fourth-year studying astrophysics, or Iwaizumi, a fourth-year studying sports medicine. The two of them are childhood best friends, a frighteningly competent bug-catching team, and the counselors who had co-led the camp the first time Kei worked this camp as a high school aide. After the first day of camp that first summer, they’d disappeared into the park behind the museum; an hour later, they returned with a handful of stag beetles and cicadas to show the kids the next day. Every summer since then, they’ve kept this tradition up, catching and bringing in local bugs to complement the museum-supplied bugs from around the world, sampled straight from the exhibits. Their dedication to bug-catching means there’s never been any shortage of creepy-crawlies for the kids to ooh and aah over. 

For two people who are such a competent bug-catching team, it’s incredibly funny to Kei how dysfunctional they are in every other aspect of their relationship. Whenever they’re assigned to the same camp, the two of them argue all the time (or rather, Oikawa whines and Iwaizumi ruthlessly shoots him down). The kids think that the sitcom-parent dynamic they’ve got going is hilarious. Personally, Kei thinks it’s impressive that Iwaizumi has never been written up for swearing in front of the kids; he’s walked in on their arguments in the ops leads’ office, where Iwaizumi’s language is decidedly less PG.

This year, he’s co-leading Tough To Be A Bug with Iwaizumi; Oikawa is a few doors down the hall, teaching Space Aces. Before they can get to the bugs, though, they've got to sit through the Monday morning all-staff meeting. Takeda and Suga take them through the usual weekly agenda – the lunch shifts for the week, a reminder that Takeda will be out on Friday afternoon so Kuroo will be helping Suga with ops lead duties, and thinly veiled scoldings from the museum staff ( _listen, your campers shouldn’t be playing hide and seek in the museum, but if they’re going to_ , says Suga, _don’t let them play by the admin offices_ ). As the meeting winds to a close, Oikawa stands up and claps his hands. “Before we head out, I have an announcement to make!”

Next to Kei, Iwaizumi mumbles a quiet _Oh no._ Kei waits in trepidation – if the (mostly) unflappable Iwaizumi doesn’t like it, then he has a feeling he’s not going to like what comes next, either.

“Mr. Refreshing and I were brainstorming ways to build camaraderie among the counselors this summer,” says Oikawa. “So we’ve decided—” here he pauses for dramatic effect— “to set up a group chat!”

Suga chimes in, “You should still contact an ops lead directly if you’re going to be gone, or need someone to cover your shift. But we’re hoping that this will build community among the camp counselors!”

“I won’t be in the group chat,” Takeda adds. It seems like everyone except Kei breathes a sigh of relief. “I know you’d spend half the time explaining the memes to me.”

“I believe in your ability to understand, Take-chan-sensei!” Tanaka calls out from the back of the room. A ripple of laughter runs through the group. 

“Thank you, Tanaka-kun! But I do believe you need space to talk without the adults around,” Takeda deflects nicely. “And that concludes our morning meeting! Go ahead and prep your classrooms for the day. I’ll see you out front for pickup at 8:30 sharp.”

“Aren’t we all adults?” Kei asks Yamaguchi, as they slide off the table they’ve been sitting on. The crowd of camp counselors files out into the hallway, and the two of them follow close behind. Some head to the cafeteria to get coffee before the day begins, some go straight to their classrooms to prep their materials, and _some_ of them stick around to make Kei’s day more difficult on purpose.

“Technically, we are,” the “ _some_ of them” in question cuts into the conversation, slinging his arm around Kei’s shoulders. As Kei struggles to shrug Kuroo’s arm off, he continues, “But really? None of us feel like adults.”

“You are about to graduate college,” Kei points out, finally ducking out of Kuroo’s grip. Yamaguchi, profoundly unhelpful, is surreptitiously Snapchatting the whole thing, probably to send to the group chat they share with Yachi (right now it’s titled _operation get tsukki a man_ , to Kei’s displeasure).

“When you get as old and wise as I am, Tsukki,” Kuroo says, like he isn’t a mere two years older than Kei, “you’ll realize that that means precisely jack shit.”

“Watch your language!” Suga chirps, materializing behind the two of them. “Kuroo, Oikawa can’t find your number in the records. Can you go give it to him so he can add you to the group chat?”

Kuroo flashes a two-fingered salute at Kei and Yamaguchi as he lopes away. Kei wonders if it’s possible to mute a group chat before it even starts.

🧬

Unfortunately, it’s not. Not that Kei tried or anything.

The thing is. The _thing_ is, after the morning meeting, during the window of time where they go to their classrooms to prep their materials for the day, Oikawa creates the counselor group chat, and almost _immediately_ , Kuroo texts back a picture of a frog on a unicycle and an _o shit waddup_. 

Kei thinks he’s completely within his rights to leave the chat as soon as he sees that, but Oikawa adds him back within thirty seconds of his departure. _nobody gets to escape team bonding, not even you, glasses-kun!,_ he types, and sends an obnoxious _(_ _❁_ _´_ _▽`_ _❁)*_ _✲_ _ﾟ*_ to close it out.

And _then_ to add insult to injury, Kuroo sets his nickname to _Tsukki_ after he’s forced back into the group chat. Really, Kei is only just getting used to being called Tsukki by people who aren’t Yamaguchi (read: Kuroo, Bokuto, and the younger campers who followed their example.) He’d rather die than admit that he thinks _Tsukki-san_ is cute coming from the younger campers. Yamaguchi does enough gushing over that for the two of them, anyway.

Like the chem major he is, Kuroo sets off a chain reaction in the chat. Oikawa takes the opportunity to set Suga’s nickname as _Mr. Refreshing_ and Iwaizumi’s nickname as _Iwa-chan_. In retaliation, Iwaizumi changes Oikawa’s nickname to _Shittykawa_. Kuroo and Bokuto set their names to _kubro_ and _brokuto_ like the fools they are; Kuroo, most likely inspired by Bokuto, then sets Akaashi’s name to _AGKGHAAAASHI_. Suga makes some horrendous Gucci-related pun on Yamaguchi’s name that Kei’s trying to erase from his memory. Tanaka and Noya gleefully set Ennoshita’s nickname to _NO SHIT_ , then blow up the chat debating what they should set their own nicknames to.

Really, the only nickname change Kei stands behind is the unanimous decision to nickname Suga and Daichi _mom_ and _dad._ They were mildly parental in high school, but now, as two of the oldest university students at camp, they’ve really stepped up and embraced those roles. Case in point: at precisely 8:28 AM, Daichi messages, _Suga says all of you need to get off your phones **.** Camper dropoff starts in two minutes_.

 _yes @dad_ , Tanaka and Noya text simultaneously. In classrooms around the museum, everyone pockets their phones, picks up their walkie-talkies and med bags, and heads out to the front to greet their campers and start another week at camp.

(As he follows Iwaizumi out to the front of the museum, Kei mutes the group chat.)

🧬

This week, it’s sweltering outside; their campers complain about the heat both outside on the playground and inside the classroom. When the campers’ complaints reach a crescendo, Iwaizumi props open the door between their classroom and the computer lab next door, hoping to leech some of their air-conditioned air. He and Kei come to an agreement – they’ll switch off standing at the front by the windows, where it’s warmest, and the back by the door to the computer lab, where the cool air from the computer lab air-conditioning is slowly seeping into the classroom.

Fortunately for Kei, Yamaguchi is leading the camp next door, so he can commiserate with Yamaguchi through eyerolls and scowls without leaving the (dis)comfort of his own camp. Unfortunately for Kei, Kuroo is co-leading the camp with Yamaguchi, so he can stand by the open door and annoy Kei without leaving the comfort of his own camp.

It’s obvious that Yamaguchi, who’s studying electrical and computer engineering, is doing all the heavy lifting this week when it comes to instruction. Kuroo is just there to stand there, look handsome, and help with classroom management. By Kei’s observation, he is (disgustingly) succeeding at all three of these tasks.

Kei turns his attention away from Kuroo and Yamaguchi to the camp’s star of the show: a tank of five Madagascar hissing cockroaches. Right now, the kids are looking at the different bugs the camp has on display this week, and sketching their favorite aspects of each bug. They’ll take these sketches back to their tables later to design their very own “superbug”. As he talks the campers through the instructions, Iwaizumi takes one of the stag beetles out of the cage, holding it carefully in his hands.

“I’ll be up here at the front with some of the bugs Oikawa and I got from the park. Tsukishima-san will be at the back with the Madagascar hissing cockroaches. You can pet the bugs if you want after you’re done with your sketches, but make sure to be gentle,” Iwaizumi says. 

The campers are both fascinated and horrified by the cockroaches. The bugs from the park out back are normal; every kid in the camp has dealt with them to some extent. But Madagascar hissing cockroaches are on another level – most of these kids probably couldn’t even tell you where Madagascar is on a map. 

Kei stands near the counter at the back of the room, gently cradling one of the cockroaches in his hands while the campers pet it gingerly with the very tips of their fingers, chattering excitedly to each other. The less courageous kids are peering closely at the cockroaches still in the tank, more confident with the glass barrier in between them and the bugs. “Tsukki-san,” says one of the kids, tapping the tank to point at one of the cockroaches, “I wanna give my superbug antennas like this one has!”

“It’s _antennae_ ,” Kei corrects her gently. “Don’t tap the glass, it scares them.”

“ _Tsukki-san_ , I see you’re working with the creepy-crawlies again this summer.” When he looks up, Kuroo is slouching against the doorframe.

Something like this happens pretty much every summer, too; Kei’s not sure when, but somewhere along the way, they’ve fallen into some kind of routine. It always starts like this: he holds the bug out in his cupped hands, offering it to Kuroo with a challenging smirk. “Yep. Want to hold this one?” 

Kuroo visibly swallows, but holds out his hands. “Lay it on me, Tsukki.”

After two years in a row of holding whatever bug Kei foists upon him, Kei really thinks Kuroo would have learned something by now. To his credit, he holds the cockroach for longer than he’s managed to hold the bugs of the past two summers. This year, he manages to last a whole minute. 

Kei still laughs and laughs at Kuroo when the cockroach starts walking up his arm and he _shrieks_. In his defense, the campers are laughing at Kuroo, too. But after a moment or two, Iwaizumi glares at the two of them, an unspoken yet clear message of _Get back to work_ emanating from his glare. Kei snickers as he scoops the cockroach up off Kuroo’s arm. “Get back to work, Kuroo-san,” he says, feeling impossibly fond in that moment.

Across the computer lab, Yamaguchi is very openly smirking at him. Kei waits for Kuroo to turn around before he mouths _Shut up, Yamaguchi._

* * *

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2014_

Halfway through his first summer working at the museum, Tetsurou was assigned to lead Junior Programmers with Akaashi, then a first-year at Tohoku University. His computer programming experience was pretty rudimentary – he’d taken a couple of introductory programming courses to prep for taking computational biology that fall, but wouldn’t consider himself an expert by any means. Much like It’s Tough To Be A Bug, though, the pool of counselors qualified to lead the camp was pretty small – of the STEM students who worked as counselors, the vast majority had no programming experience at all. 

So Tetsurou and Akaashi, with their introductory programming courses under their belts, undertook the task of teaching nine- and ten-year-olds the basics of programming. Thankfully, Akaashi was an actual computer science major, and explained programming concepts to their campers much more eloquently than he could. (Yamaguchi, their aide that week, had absolutely no programming experience, but he _was_ trying his best and they had to give him props for that.)

It was swelteringly hot in Miyagi that week, with temperatures in the high 20s. On the bright side, teaching the only computer programming camp meant he got to spend the week in the computer lab, one of the few classrooms in the museum with functional air-conditioning. On the dark side, the classroom next door had no air-conditioning, and it was full of _bugs_. 

It wasn’t that there was an infestation or anything – Tough To Be A Bug was just running in the classroom next door. Oikawa propped the door between their rooms open in a vain attempt to let some cool air in, justifying it with a grin and a “It’s for the bugs, really! Aren’t we such good caretakers?” Iwaizumi retorted, “You’re just trying to make sure your hair doesn’t melt in this heat. Get back up to the front and help me lead this lesson.” 

As they started to bicker, Tsukki carefully took a mealworm out of the case. Intrigued, Kuroo moved over to stand on the other side of the doorframe. “What’cha doin’ there, Tsukki?” 

“It’s _Tsukishima_ ,” said Tsukki automatically. “Yamaguchi wanted to see the mealworms we’ve got this week.” From the other side of the computer lab, Yamaguchi waved and mouthed something. Tsukki rolled his eyes. “Guess he’s busy. You want to hold one?” The mealworm crawled onto his right hand and investigated his wrist, trying to make a run up his arm. He expertly redirected it into his left hand, then held his cupped hands out to Tetsurou. “Go on. It doesn’t bite.”

“Sure,” shrugged Tetsurou. It was just a little bug. Nothing like the enormous cicadas Iwaizumi had brought in yesterday. It couldn’t be all that bad, right?

Wrong. Tetsurou held the mealworm for all of ten seconds before it made a break for his elbow and he let out a very unmanly shriek. Tsukishima plucked the mealworm off his forearm, smirking at Tetsurou’s displeased scowl. As soon as Tsukishima moved away from the door between their classrooms, he said in a rush to Akaashi, “I’m gonna take my break.”

He escaped to the bathroom, where he washed his hands extra well, then retreated to the ops lead office to panic-text Kenma.

> **Me** 11:01 AM  
>  kenma  
>  if someone asks u to hold a mealworm  
>  does that like  
>  mean smth?????
> 
> **kenmacat** 11:02 AM  
>  it means u work at a science center. idk what u expected?

🧬

“Damn, bro – ” Bokuto started, before Akaashi elbowed him neatly in the side. He course-corrected with a little huff. “ _Dang_ , bro, you really just stole my line like that when you talked to Tsukishima?”

None of their campers were within earshot, so maybe Akaashi didn’t really need to keep Bokuto in check; the two of them stood with Tetsurou near the museum’s back door, watching the kids run around the playground. Other counselors were arrayed around the edge of the playground, standing in twos and threes. All of them had similarly tired looks on their faces; that day’s cafeteria lunch had included chocolate chip cookies, and it was clear that despite the heat, their campers still needed at _least_ fifteen more minutes outside to run off the resulting sugar rush.

Tetsurou graced Bokuto with his best shit-eating grin. “Sometimes, bro, you _do_ say things worth repeating.”

“Rude!” Bokuto squawked, arms flapping like some sort of very disgruntled owl. “You took my beautiful speech about finding that one moment that helps you figure out what you want to do for the rest of your life, and you talked about _watching things blow up in seventh grade!_ ”

“I don’t know, bro, I think I delivered it better,” Tetsurou said unrepentantly. “ _Your_ moment was when you spiked a volleyball into your teacher’s face, and instead of getting mad he talked to you about the force and acceleration of the volleyball.”

“That _was_ cool! Physics is cool as shi—itake mushrooms,” Bokuto groused, as Akaashi preemptively elbowed him again. “A _kaaaaa_ shi, that hurt!”

With a beatific smile, Akaashi replied, “Stop swearing in front of the children and I will.” Bokuto’s jaw dropped open at Akaashi’s smile; in that moment, Tetsurou wished fervently that he was allowed to have his phone out during work hours; Bokuto’s face would have made a _killer_ Snapchat sticker.

Instead of making a comment about how transparently in love Bokuto was, though, Tetsurou very eloquently concluded, “My story had more explosions, so it’s cooler. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Interesting that you repurposed one of your best friends’ speeches for someone you’ve known for three weeks,” Akaashi said calmly. For a moment, Tetsurou considered talking about how transparently in love Bokuto was, just to take the heat off himself.

Like a good bro, though, he simply huffed, “Cut a guy some slack, will you, Akaashi?” He paused for a minute, watching the kids running around the playground. Across the playground, one of the younger campers on the swings was talking to Tsukki and Daichi, waving their hands emphatically. As Tetsurou watched, Tsukki gave in and started to push them on the swings. “Tsukki is just so… reserved, you know? He acts like he doesn’t care about anything. I think it would do him some good to, like. Let himself get excited about something.”

“You know Kuroo, Akaashi,” Bokuto stage-whispered confidentially. “He’s a sucker for mentoring the youth.”

“Mhm,” hummed Akaashi. The look on his face implied he wasn’t completely convinced. “Tsukishima-san is only a year younger than me. Am I a youth, Bokuto-san?”

“N-no, Akaashi! Of course not!” Bokuto was practically tripping over himself to fix his blunder; to save Bokuto from hurting himself in his confusion, Tetsurou cut in smoothly, “Anyway, I think Tsukki’s got potential, is all. Once he chooses what he wants to do, I think he’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”

* * *

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2016_

This week, Kei gets to work extended care, which means he gets the pleasure (?) of hanging out with some of his younger campers until 6 PM, when their families come to pick them up. It’s not all that bad a gig, in all honesty - the room they use for extended care is air-conditioned, and the campers are usually content to sit there playing with each other, with minimal intervention on Kei's part. Kei can just perch on a chair, poach some of the afternoon snacks meant for the campers, and hang out for a few hours. 

At the end of the day, Kei opens his texts to find a new message in the counselor group chat: _Check out our new ink!_ , it reads. It’s a photo of his forearm and the back of Yamaguchi’s hand, sporting matching Triceratops temporary tattoos from the front desk. It’s very nicely composed, for a photo with such a silly subject; not all that surprising, though, as Yachi’s photography skills put the rest of them to shame.

Within seconds, Tanaka and Noya get into a serious discussion about giving themselves sleeves of the temp tattoos at the front desk. Ever the realist, Kei messages, _Do you want to look like yakuza?_ and navigates to his texts with Yamaguchi before the resultant infuriated texts start to come in. _What do you want for dinner?_ he texts.

 _Can you get me katsudon pleeeease_ , Yamaguchi texts back, appending a handful of prayer-hands emojis. _Thank you Tsukki!!_

So Kei takes the train back to their apartment, getting off one stop early to pick up katsudon from the izakaya by that station, and walks the rest of the way home, a bag of takeout in his hands. Opening the door of his apartment, he finds Yamaguchi on a video call with his mom, chattering away in rapid-fire Tagalog. “ _Nay, ang_ oblivious _nila, di pa sila pwedeng tignan na gusto nila ang isa’t isa. At ang landi-landi naman ni Kuroo! Oo naman! Naku, parang wala nilang mata_. _Uy, andito na si Tsukki._ ” Kei doesn’t understand a word – maybe Yamaguchi is talking about Kuroo? – but despite the language barrier, it’s very clear that Yamaguchi inherited his love of gossip from his mother. Yamaguchi switches smoothly back into Japanese. “Tsukki, come say hi to my mom!”

“Hi, Auntie,” says Kei, putting the bag of takeout down on their kitchen table. Pixelated and blurry on Yamaguchi’s phone screen, Yamaguchi Maria beams up at him. Home, for him and Yamaguchi, is only a half-hour away by train, but nevertheless Auntie Maria calls Yamaguchi every Wednesday night like clockwork. _Wednesdays are best, because then I can get things ready if you plan to visit this weekend!,_ she always says.

Auntie Maria launches into the same barrage of questions she asks Kei every time he pops in on a phone call. “Uy, Kei-kun, how are you? I saw your mother at the grocery store yesterday. You should call her soon. Are you coming home this weekend?”

Kei knows from years of friendship that Auntie Maria always asks Yamaguchi how Kei’s doing, but nevertheless, whenever Kei appears on a video call, she always makes a point of asking him personally how he’s doing. It’s kind of heartwarming. With an ease borne of years fielding these questions, Kei ticks off the answers on his fingers: “I’m okay, thank you Auntie; I’ll call her later today; we’re not coming home, Yamaguchi is dragging me to hang out with the other counselors this weekend.” 

“Oh, good! I’m glad the two of you are making friends,” beams Auntie Maria, “but both of you come home soon, ha? I know your mother misses you, Kei-kun.” Unlike Auntie Maria, Kei’s mother is less adamant about talking to her son every week: _as long as you’re taking care of yourself, I’m not too worried, but it would be nice if you called home a_ little _more often,_ she always says.

“ _Opo_ , _Nay_ , we’ll definitely try to visit before school starts,” Yamaguchi cuts in placatingly. “Okay, _maghahapunan na kami,_ talk to you next week!”

“ _Sige na_ , make sure you eat your vegetables!” Auntie Maria says sternly, and ends the call. 

Kei unpacks the takeout, placing one Styrofoam container of katsudon in front of Yamaguchi and the other in front of himself. Notably, no vegetables are present, aside from the green onions on top of the katsudon. (What Auntie Maria doesn’t know won’t hurt her.) “So, what were you and your mom talking about?”

“I just mentioned you were making friends, is all,” says Yamaguchi, pulling a pair of chopsticks from the plastic bag. “It only took you a few years to warm up!” He breaks the chopsticks apart with a sharp _snap_.

“Maybe they’re just more tolerable this year,” says Kei, splitting his own chopsticks apart. “ _Itadakimasu_.”

“ _Itadakimasu_ ,” echoes Yamaguchi. Through a mouthful of katsudon, he continues, “More tolerable, huh. You’re _tolerating_ Kuroo a lot more this summer. You two were awfully close last week.”

“There isn’t much room on that beanbag.” 

Yamaguchi levels him with an unimpressed look. Kei thinks it’s very unfair of him to use that look, as he is literally the one who taught it to Yamaguchi. “That beanbag is six feet across. There is _plenty_ of room.” When Kei doesn’t say anything, Yamaguchi pushes forward. “I mean, I’m glad you’re making friends with Kuroo, Tsukki! But hear me out. Maybe this is something more?”

“We’re just friends!” Kei protests.

“Just friends who were up and close and personal on that very beanbag last week.” Yamaguchi dramatically gestures toward the beanbag. “Just friends who’ve been needling at each other for almost three years.”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” mumbles Kei, picking at his food.

“Really, though, Tsukki.” If there’s one thing to be said about Yamaguchi, it’s that he knows when to back off. The emotion in his voice is genuine when he speaks again. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about anything. Me and Yachi both.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kei grumbles, getting up to put his leftovers in the fridge. Yamaguchi gets up to throw his empty Styrofoam container in the trash, humming something to himself. Before he heads back to his room, Kei pauses at the opening of the hallway. “... Thanks, Yamaguchi.”

Yamaguchi’s grin is almost blinding. “No problem, Tsukki!” As Kei goes to his room, Yamaguchi’s singing follows him down the hall: _Ganyan main-lab, lab, lab, lab, lab!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some translations:
>
>> “Nay, ang oblivious nila, di pa sila pwedeng tignan na gusto nila ang isa’t isa. At ang landi-landi naman ni Kuroo! Oo naman! Naku, parang wala nilang mata. Uy, andito na si Tsukki.” — "Mom, they're so oblivious, they still can't see they like each other. And Kuroo's such a flirt, too. Yeah! God, it's like they don't have eyes. Oh, Tsukki's here."
>> 
>> "Opo, Nay" — "Yes, Mom"
>> 
>> "maghahapunan na kami" — "We're gonna eat dinner now"
>> 
>> "Sige na" — "Okay"
>> 
>> "Ganyan main-lab" — "that's what it's like to be in love" (Yamaguchi is singing ["Shirley"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iADtcKnFV7o) by the Eraserheads; "in lab" is just "in love" with a strong Filipino accent LMAO)
> 
> i am just a very big fan of yamaguchi's very filipino mother exerting her powerful auntie energy to adopt kei as her second son.
> 
> this chapter is dedicated to the one camp counselor who once let ME hold a mealworm two years ago, and very nicely did not laugh at me when it started crawling up my arm and i freaked out. they say to write what you know. please know i'm absolutely kuroo in this week's update.


	4. off the clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get to see a little bit of life outside the museum, Kei makes a new friend, and Yamaguchi stages an intervention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this update is late (rip) but to be fair i'm super close to a wildfire rn and was packing for evac during my usual writing time!! we haven't had to evacuate yet so here's hoping the fire gets under control soon. send some good vibes and rainy thoughts to the west coast of the us y'all, we need it.
> 
> note that there is alcohol use in the first scene of this chapter, if that's not your thing! it is not excessive but it is definitely there.

_Oikawa & Iwaizumi’s Apartment  
Summer 2016_

To understand how Tetsurou got into this situation, it must first be understood how fucking _extra_ Oikawa Tooru is. 

The situation is this: it is the Saturday of the third week of camp, he is in Oikawa’s surprisingly-not-so-shitty-considering-he’s-a-college-student apartment, and he is sitting on the couch getting his ass kicked in Oikawa’s birthday Smash tournament.

Oikawa’s birthday was two weeks ago, at the start of the first week of camp, but his extra-ness is the reason they’re celebrating his birthday so late: the weekend after his birthday, he went home to celebrate with his family (and Iwaizumi), then went to Tokyo (with Iwaizumi) to visit his best friends from Seijoh the weekend after that. 

So here they are, finally celebrating Oikawa’s birthday seventeen days after the fact. In Tetsurou’s view, the party is surprisingly chill, compared to Oikawa’s birthday parties from previous summers. Maybe they’re all just getting old. (Or maybe it’s because this year, Iwaizumi had texted the group chat in that lovable and mildly threatening way he has, _If you bring anything stronger than soju and this fucking lightweight vomits,_ the “fucking lightweight” in question being Oikawa, _I WILL make you clean it up_.) After a few rounds of birthday shots of soju, Oikawa’s not _too_ drunk, but the rest of them are at varying levels of sobriety. Around the apartment, there’s a low hum of conversation as the counselors talk with each other.

And, as previously mentioned, Tetsurou is getting his ass kicked in Smash. Oikawa doesn’t play Smash himself – the copy they’re playing belongs to Iwaizumi – but he enjoys spectating the tournaments that inevitably start during his birthday parties, like some sort of young royal gleefully watching a jousting tournament in his honor. Tetsurou and Bokuto are the last two left in this round, each with one life left. Iwaizumi and Daichi, who had fought valiantly but been knocked out a few minutes ago, are sitting on Tetsurou’s left and Bokuto’s right respectively, attempting to hold a conversation across Tetsurou and Bokuto while they wait for the round to end. Oikawa’s sitting between Iwaizumi’s legs on the floor, leaning against the couch and shit-talking all the competitors.

“So Iwaizumi,” says Daichi conversationally, as Bokuto’s Captain Falcon grabs Tetsurou’s Mewtwo and smashes him into the ground, “you’ve basically been to three of Oikawa’s birthday parties this year alone?” 

“Yeah. He’s extra as shit.” Iwaizumi simultaneously sounds fond and pissed off, the way he usually does when talking about Oikawa. Tetsurou has worked with Iwaizumi for the past three summers and he’s _still_ not sure if they’re dating or not. (“I’m _right here_ ,” Oikawa whines, and then follows up with, “Kuroo-kun, that was a fucking terrible block.”)

Captain Falcon knocks Mewtwo off the stage with a well-timed Falcon Punch. “Fuck you fuck you fuck you,” Tetsurou chants, mashing the jump button frantically, but it’s too late; Mewtwo’s damage is too high to make a comeback, and it goes sailing off the screen. “Ohhh, son of a _bitch_.” (It’s nice, for once, to be somewhere where he can swear in peace without the museum staff glaring daggers through the back of his skull.)

“Hey hey _hey_!” Bokuto crows. His energy is reminiscent of nothing so much as Tanaka two seconds before he’s about to rip his shirt off. “Did you fucking see that, Akaashi?! Who’s the best?!”

“You’re the best, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi calls from where he’s tucked into the corner with Yamaguchi, their heads bent together over Akaashi’s phone. He absolutely did _not_ see anything that just transpired. As Bokuto whoops and hollers, Tetsurou briefly considers telling Bokuto that Akaashi wasn’t even watching; he’s jolted out of his thoughtful daze by Oikawa, who reaches over to whack him gently in the shins. “Don’t be so petty! You won last year. Go get some air, Kuroo-kun.”

“You’re the last person who should be calling anyone petty. You just want me to get off the couch so you can sit next to Iwaizumi,” Tetsurou grouses. He gets up anyway, with only slight difficulty. (He considers this an achievement, after all the shots he’s taken.)

“Guilty!” Oikawa throws up his trademark combination of a peace sign and a stuck-out tongue, gets up with considerably more difficulty, and flops into the newly-vacated spot on the couch. 

In his pocket, his phone starts buzzing; he makes his way toward the kitchen to answer it. Around him, the birthday-party-slash-team-bonding-night is in full swing. Near the entrance to the kitchen, Tanaka (unsurprisingly shirtless) and Noya (thankfully still wearing a shirt) are loudly demonstrating the younger campers’ favorite camp song for a very unimpressed Ennoshita, who is leaning against the counter tapping at his phone. From his experience at previous counselor hangouts, Tetsurou is willing to bet that he’s probably texting Noya’s boyfriend to come pick them up.

“ _Roy G. Biv is a colorful man_ ,” Tanaka warbles, as Noya vocalizes a slurred string of syllables that’s maybe supposed to be a harmony. Ennoshita looks like he’s reevaluating all the choices that have brought him to this point, in Oikawa’s apartment, listening to drunken university students performing a song written for grade schoolers. Granted, Ennoshita wears this look on his face every time he watches Tanaka and Noya getting into shenanigans he is powerless to stop. Tetsurou pats him on the back bracingly as he goes by.

In the kitchen, he finds the Miya twins. They’re newer additions to the gang, having started at the museum just last summer, and unique in that they’re not camp counselors. Instead, they work in the museum cafeteria, where Tetsurou swings by every morning to wheedle a free cup of coffee out of them. The two of them kind of piss Oikawa off, so it’s unclear how they got invited to this party; if you ask Tetsurou, someone must have invited them for the entertainment value. Case in point: right now, they’re arguing over the optimal amount of time to heat pizza rolls in the oven, with Atsumu brandishing the pizza rolls’ packaging like it’s some kind of sacred text.

“Th’ box says ya gotta do ten to twelve minutes, ‘Samu!” 

“Well, if ya do thirteen they get a li’l extra crispy on th’ outside!” 

“Yeah, sure, and then they’ll be so hot I’ll burn my fuckin’ tongue on th’ filling!”

“That’s your _own_ fuckin’ fault, you animal! Wait for your food to cool–”

“I have the _God-given right_ to eat my pizza rolls straight outta the oven!”

They’re so fucking chaotic. Tetsurou loves them. But he isn’t in the kitchen for pizza rolls; he’s here to answer his phone (and grab some water while he’s at it). Pushing past the squabbling twins, he leans against the back wall of the kitchen and unlocks his phone.

“Kuro?” Kenma’s voice is tinny through the phone speakers; Tetsurou fumbles in his pocket for his earbuds, and plugs them into his phone. Slightly clearer now, Kenma continues, “Where are you?”

“At Oikawa’s place. It’s his birthday.” Tetsurou tilts his phone to show a bit more of the background. On the fridge to his left, someone has very maturely arranged a set of alphabet magnets to spell out O WR FKIN GAY. The remaining letters of the alphabet are clumped into one very long keysmash; the Y in GAY is holding up a Polaroid of Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and two of their friends at Tokyo DisneySea. They’re all wearing matching mouse ears, and Oikawa – wearing a _Happy Birthday!_ button with Mickey Mouse’s face on it – is kissing Iwaizumi on the cheek. (Well, that’s one question answered.) “Or, well, it _was_ his birthday a couple of weeks ago.”

Kenma nods politely. He probably doesn’t care who Oikawa is. “Anyway. Your mom told me to call you because you weren’t answering texts. They’re trying to plan for your sister’s visit next week.”

Tetsurou opens his messaging app to see that yes, he’s missed a good amount of messages in the family group chat. Oops. “I was in a Smash tournament,” he says sheepishly, and Kenma hums in understanding. “But yeah, I know she’s coming to visit. I took the week off already.”

They fall into a comfortable silence; Tetsurou taps out a text to his family, _yes I am alive and I am coming home next Monday_ , while Kenma returns to his game. In the background, the Miyas’ argument has moved past the pizza rolls, which are now in the oven for Osamu’s suggested thirteen minutes, to the twins’ various childhood crimes against each other. Someone says disdainfully from the doorway, “Ah, the idiot twins are here.” Tetsurou looks up to see that Tsukki has entered the kitchen, and is suddenly much more interested in the conversation. “Where’s the third member of your cafeteria trio?”

“If you’re going to watch what’s happening, at least flip the camera so I can watch too,” Kenma says. Like the great friend he is, Tetsurou flips the camera as Osamu says, “Y’know as well as I do Sakusa-kun wouldn’t be caught dead here.” He sweeps his arm out to indicate… well, everything about the party. “But he said he, uh, sends his regards.”

“Omi-kun would never do somethin’ as civilized as _sendin’ his regards_ ,” Atsumu scoffs.

“Shuddup, yer just mad because he turned down your invitation to come here with ya.”

The argument begins anew. Tetsurou stops paying attention. So, it seems, does Tsukki; he pushes past the Miyas to get to the fridge and starts to root around in it for something. A few moments later, he resurfaces, complaining, “Who drank the last fucking Yakult?” His cheeks are pink – probably from the shots they did earlier – and he’s actually _pouting_ , Tetsurou registers. What the fuck. That’s so cute.

“Wait, is that Tsukishima?” Kenma asks, registering genuine interest for the first time this call. “I want to meet him.”

“Right now?” Kenma levels him with a look that clearly says _When else am I going to meet him?_ Tetsurou flips the camera around to stick his tongue out at him, then reaches out to tap Tsukki on the shoulder. “Hey, Tsukki, are you free right now? Kenma wants to meet you.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” In the background, the twins’ argument escalates to a new volume level; Tetsurou rolls his eyes and leads Tsukki out to the tiny balcony, where it’s much quieter. As they stand shoulder to shoulder, Tsukki takes one of Tetsurou’s earbuds, plugs it into his ear, and politely says, “Hello?”

Five minutes into the conversation, it’s clear that Kenma and Tsukki get along like a house on fire. Maybe Tetsurou should have seen this coming; they’re both quiet, analytical, brutally honest people. He’s not sure how much time goes by as they stand out on the balcony. At some point he stops paying attention to the conversation, and instead (subtly) observes how the moonlight and the glow of Tetsurou’s phone screen cast a gentle light on Tsukki’s face.

And then they start making fun of him, and Tsukki is _laughing_ , like full-blown laughing, not the cruel snickers he lets slip so freely on a regular basis. The sight would be so, so beautiful, were it not directed at Tetsurou. (As it is, it still makes his heart skip a beat.)

“Oh my god. You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tsukki crows. “ _This guy_ was shy and quiet? I can’t even imagine it.”

“I know.” Kenma shakes his head solemnly. “It really makes you wonder what happened.”

“I’m _right here_!” Kuroo squawks.

Seemingly brought together by their shared love of roasting Tetsurou, Kenma and Tsukishima swap numbers. “You met him ten minutes ago and you already gave him your number?” Tetsurou whines, as Tsukki adds Kenma to his contacts. “It took me more than a year to get yours!”

“That’s because I was a high schooler and it was against camp protocol,” Tsukki points out sensibly, and finishes putting Kenma’s number into his phone. 

Behind them, Suga pushes the balcony door open. The party’s starting to wind down; Daichi’s started to clean things up, Ennoshita is shepherding Tanaka and Noya toward the door, Yamaguchi is fast asleep on the couch. “Tsukishima,” Suga says, gesturing to Yamaguchi, “I think it’s about time to take Yamaguchi home.” 

“‘Kay,” Tsukishima replies, and turns back to Tetsurou’s phone. “It was nice meeting you, Kenma-san. I’ll see you Monday, Kuroo-san.” 

As they watch him go, Tetsurou jokes, “Don’t steal him from under my nose.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’d have to deal with you moping all the time.” Kenma wrinkles his nose, then his face softens into a small smile. “I do like him, though. I saw how you were watching him during this call. I think you’d work well together.”

Daichi inadvertently saves Tetsurou from saying some romcom line like _Wait, was it really that obvious?!_ by yelling through the door, “Oi, Kuroo, stop standing around and help me clean up!”

“Do your best,” said Kenma, and hung up, leaving Tetsurou alone on the balcony with a head full of questions.

* * *

_Tohoku University - North-Kawauchi Campus  
Spring 2016_

Here’s a fact: rules aside, if Kuroo Tetsurou had asked for his number at the end of their first summer of camp, Kei probably would have given it to him.

Here’s another fact: at the end of their second summer of camp, Kei _did_ give Kuroo his number. No matter how much of a fuss Yamaguchi made over it at the time, Kei didn’t think this was much of an achievement; over the ensuing months, they didn’t text at all. 

“You _could_ make the first move,” Yamaguchi pointed out at the end of April, around the time they both received an email: _The Sendai City Science Museum would like to invite you back this summer…_

“ _I_ gave _him_ my number,” Kei felt it necessary to point out. “That means it’s on him to start the conversation, right?” They were sitting side by side at the library, at one of the prime tables by a power outlet. Theoretically, they were there to do their homework, but Kei’s textbook sat sadly neglected as he scrolled through his phone, and Yamaguchi’s coding assignment had long been abandoned for the joys of _League of Legends_.

“He’s an upperclassman, Tsukki! He’s probably busy!” Yamaguchi said absently, the rapid clicks of his mouse betraying what he was really focused on. Kei would be offended that Yamaguchi wasn’t paying attention, but he was in the middle of a thrilling game of minesweeper and didn’t have much room to talk.

“It’s fine, Yamaguchi.” He carefully flagged a square and squinted at the screen. There were four squares left, and one more possible mine hidden among them. “I’m over it. If he doesn’t want to text, then he won’t.”

“Mhm,” Yamaguchi hummed, clicking furiously. Kei’s phone lit up with a notification; startled, his thumb slipped, tripping a mine. The animated explosions and _GAME OVER_ flashing on his screen went ignored as he opened his texts. 

> **Kuroo Tetsurou** 11:01 AM  
>  hey tsukki!  
>  happy start of the school year~  
>  got any hot plans for the summer

_This is not fine_ , Kei thought, _I am not over it_.

“What?” Yamaguchi asked, and Kei belatedly realized he’d said that out loud. He leaned over, his match forgotten. “Wait, are you actually texting him, let me see—” 

“Yamaguchi, your game—” 

“This is obviously more important!” A passing librarian shot both of them a death glare; Yamaguchi lowered his voice to a stage whisper which was still probably audible at the next table over. “Whoa. Speak of the devil and the devil, uh, texts you out of the blue? Go on, Tsukki, text him back.”

> **Me** 11:05 AM  
>  Just working at the museum again.  
>  You?

“I take it back. You are the most boring texter _ever_ ,” Yamaguchi complained, parking his chin on Kei’s shoulder. Both of them watched as three little dots popped up on Kuroo’s end.

> **Kuroo Tetsurou** 11:05 AM  
>  oh sick me too!!  
>  guess i’ll see you there :3
> 
> **Me** 11:07 AM  
>  I’ll see you this summer, Kuroo-san.

“Sooooo,” Yamaguchi grinned, “that means you have this summer to make a move.” When Kei nailed him with a glare, he put his hands up defensively. “I’m just saying! We’re all friends on Facebook. You know as well as I do, he’s available.”

* * *

_Kei & Yamaguchi’s Apartment  
Summer 2016_

Four weeks later, Yamaguchi still hasn’t let that conversation go. His constant winks and nudges _should_ be annoying, but here’s the thing: Kei _does_ like Kuroo, despite himself. Sure, Kuroo is loud, and irritating, and he knows all the best ways to get under Kei’s skin. But he takes good care of the campers, and he’s always helping the people around him improve, and he is, at the end of it all, the one who had (indirectly) encouraged Kei to pursue his current course of study.

So Kei deals with Yamaguchi’s good-natured teasing – _Ooh, you met his best friend, that’s almost like meeting the parents_ \- with grace, and deals with the way his stomach flips every time his phone dings with a text from Kuroo with… less grace.

See, since Kenma and Kei swapped numbers earlier this week, Kuroo has also been texting Kei more. Kei’s favorite messages are the slightly-panicked variations on _WHAT DID KENMA TELL YOU THIS TIME_. (Kenma isn’t actually telling Kei anything too embarrassing – _Kuro would be insufferable if I told you the good stuff_ , he texts once – but both of them think it’s fun to mess with Kuroo, so they keep up the pretense.)

Kuroo’s a fun person to text, panicked responses to embarrassing childhood stories and all. He sends pictures of his cat Kenny almost every day without fail ( _I wanted to name him Kenma_ , he says, _but Kenma said no_ ), debriefs each day of camp in the evenings ( _maybe we shouldn’t let the middle schoolers play hide-and-seek in the museum anymore, Yamato-kun made a break for it today_ ), and even offers to buy him a souvenir ( _then i’ll be bringing omiyage to miyagi! damn that almost rhymed maybe i missed my calling as a poet_ ). 

Yamaguchi watches all of this with amusement, until the emails from their second-trimester professors start to come in. It’s then that the realization hits both of them that they’ve only got two weeks left of summer vacation – and, by extension, of camp.

Kei’s first thought is _Oh shit, my summer homework_. Neither he nor Yamaguchi are as studious as they were in high school; the textbooks that have sat untouched for most of the summer really need to be dusted off. Yamaguchi’s first concern, though, is for Kei’s love life, because he’s just a better friend than Kei deserves. “It’s the end of week four and you still haven’t made a move?” he asks, resting his chin on Kei’s shoulder as he taps out a reply to Kuroo’s latest message: _Figuring that out as a senior? Little late now, don’t you think? Unless you’re planning to drop out of chemistry now._

“No,” says Kei shortly, and presses send.

Yamaguchi unpeels himself from Kei’s back and takes a seat across the kitchen table from him. “He’s graduating this year. You’re not going to really have a chance after this summer.”

“I know, Yamaguchi,” Kei snaps. “I just—” Embarrassingly, his voice starts to shake. “You know. What if I misread all of this? What if I’m just setting myself up to fail?”

A silence falls between the two of them, awkward moments stretching into minutes, until Yamaguchi says with unnatural gravity, “You’re not your brother, Tsukki.”

🧬

Here’s a story: 

Seven years ago, Tsukishima Akiteru got into Tohoku University with a full ride scholarship for biology and anthropology. He, like his younger brother, wanted to be a paleontologist.

What Akiteru didn’t realize was that college was _hard_. He put his all into his studies, but nevertheless his academics took a serious hit. At the end of his first year, he lost his scholarship, he dropped out of Tohoku University, and he picked up a job to pay the rent. 

No one in the Tsukishima family knew this was happening. On his infrequent visits home, Akiteru would smile and put on a brave face for his family. _How’s it going?_ they’d ask, and he’d reply, _Oh, you know. Lots of tests, lots of papers._ It wasn’t until the middle of what would have been his second year that the truth came out; Kei had gone up to Sendai for a surprise visit to find Akiteru out of his apartment. His roommate, a kind-faced boy named Ryo, had let him in, sat him down at the kitchen table, and gone back to doing his homework. 

_How’s school going for both of you?_ Kei had asked, in a feeble attempt to make small talk. Ryo had turned around, face screwed up in confusion. _What do you mean, “both of you?” Akiteru dropped out at the end of last year._

Akiteru had pushed through the door then, still in his work uniform, and met Kei’s eyes with a terrified _Oh._

It’s been seven years since that day. Spurred by the fight with his brother that inevitably followed, Akiteru did his best to get his life together. He used what would have been his second year at Tohoku to study for another university’s entrance exams, and graduated with a degree in literature a few years later. Little by little, he and Kei have mended their relationship. He was the proudest and most embarrassing big brother on the face of the planet when Kei was accepted to Tohoku’s biology and anthropology programs; he still makes Kei watch dinosaur documentaries with him whenever they’re both visiting home. Despite everything, he’s found a way to be happy.

Still, of all the things Kei has learned from his older brother over the nineteen-almost-twenty years he’s been on this earth, the one that sticks out to him is this: Caring too much about things just leads to disappointment and pain. Maybe it’s better to set your standards low and put up your walls to keep yourself from getting hurt. _Life finds a way._

🧬

“You’re not your brother, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says again, but this time it’s much more gentle. “Just because Akiteru cared about something and still failed at it, that doesn’t mean it’ll turn out the same way for you.”

“But—” 

“No buts, Tsukki! Listen. The fact that you’re here right now, still studying what you’re studying – that’s already proof that you’re different from Akiteru. You haven’t failed.”

“Yet,” Kei chips in.

“Shut up, I’m still talking,” Yamaguchi huffs. The reversal of _Yamaguchi_ telling _him_ to shut up gives Kei pause. “This might be news to you, but it’s okay to care about things. And even if you try to be all cool about it, I know you care! You care about paleontology, even though that’s what Akiteru failed out of in the first place. You care about Akiteru, even though you guys barely spoke for years after that fight. You care about me even though I’ve been teasing you about Kuroo for the past three summers. And you care about Kuroo. Isn’t that worth a try, at least?”

“Okay, but in the event that I _do_ say something and he doesn’t feel the same way, then I’ll have ruined a perfectly good friendship.” Kei picks at the skin around his thumbnail, avoiding Yamaguchi’s gaze. “And for what? These stupid feelings I’ve been nursing since high school?”

“First of all, Tsukki, your feelings aren’t stupid!” Yamaguchi kicks his shins under the table. Offended, Kei jerks his gaze upward to glare at Yamaguchi, who cheerfully continues onward. “And second, he’s about to graduate. So worst-case scenario, it’s awkward between you until the end of the summer – which is only _two weeks out_ , I might add – and then you never have to see him again. Best-case scenario, he feels the same way, you get a boyfriend, and then I can drag you on double dates with me and Yachi.”

The idea of actually going on a date with Kuroo is a lot for Kei to comprehend; he buries his face in his arms, embarrassed. He hates to admit it, but Yamaguchi was… actually kind of cool, just now. “I _guess_ you’re right, Yamaguchi.”

“Aren’t I always?” Yamaguchi beams.

“Shut up,” Kei grouses, but there’s no heat behind his words. “I don’t want to just drop that on him over text, though… I guess I’ll talk to him at camp next week.”

“That’s the way, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi cheers. A moment passes. “Wait, isn’t Kuroo off next week?”

“Oh.” _Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this week's update! :^) despite the fact that this week has been Very Stressful for fire-related reasons, i had a lot of fun writing this chapter (especially the party scene. my god the miyas were so fun to write.)
> 
> noya and tanaka are singing [roy g. biv](https://open.spotify.com/track/0UG9o1jtxAPt2aZXvWefBS?si=MxXIIiDtSTKTUtYXFY5DJA) by they might be giants, which was one of my younger campers' favorites. this one goes out to the camper who said " _ROY G BIV IS A MAN OF COLOR_ " (and not "a colorful man") with their whole chest.
> 
> if you'd be interested in any side stories for the background couples/friendships in this au, feel free to leave a comment! i might write some after this story wraps up; we're halfway through now! thanks for sticking around so far!


	5. of distance and the heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kuroo goes to Tokyo, and Tsukishima's campers become secret agents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's late again! my apologies. but it also does have ~1300 words more than usual! i had a lot of fun writing this one, please enjoy :)

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2016_

According to the schedule Suga and Takeda have tacked up in the ops leads’ office, Kuroo isn’t working this week; according to the counselor group chat, this is because Kuroo is going home to visit his family ( _n our boi kenma ofc!!!!_ , Bokuto adds). 

In Kei’s view, this gives him exactly one week to figure out how he’s going to tell Kuroo Tetsurou how he’s kind of been in love with him for the past three summers. So, of course, because the universe hates Kei, Kuroo is there on Monday to help open up camp for the week. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be here at all this week,” Kei says after the counselors’ Monday morning meeting. They’re standing outside the museum entrance, waiting for campers to arrive. Kei is holding up a sign with the words _Super Secret Agents_ written in his precise hand; in the corner of the sign, there’s a doodle of an eye inside a magnifying glass, courtesy of Yamaguchi. Kuroo is leaning against the wall, his bright red camp t-shirt haphazardly pulled on over a black button-up shirt. The left half of the button-up’s collar pokes out from under the t-shirt; the right half is only visible as a prominent wrinkle beneath the shirt. Somehow, Kuroo manages to make this mess look cool. Kei reconsiders his life choices. Before he can spend any more time contemplating Kuroo’s appearance, he follows up, “Aren’t you visiting your sister?”

“Wow, Tsukki, such attention to detail! Bokuto was feeling a little under the weather this morning, if you catch my drift.” Kuroo waggles his eyebrows meaningfully. Kei vaguely recalls a message in the group chat about Bokuto having _THE worst hangover ever my dudes, i think im dying!!!!_ Somewhere around waist level for them, a swarm of third- and fourth-graders mills about, chattering; obviously, Bokuto’s hangover is not something suitable to discuss around young ears, so Kei just nods and lets Kuroo continue. “I guess he just… really wanted to send me off with a bang? Akaashi and I left him with coffee and McDonald’s and ibuprofen, so he should be fine.” _We’ve gone through this many times before_ , goes heavily implied. “I’m leaving at lunch.”

The last few parents drift away from the door, calling back goodbyes to their kids. Around them, the other counselors start to call their campers to attention, slowly but surely shepherding them into the museum. “Safe travels,” says Kei. 

The two of them stand there for a moment, two stationary islands in a sea of moving campers. A slow smile spreads over Kuroo’s face. “Awww,” he coos, “are you gonna miss me, Tsukki?”

“Absolutely not,” Kei snaps, turning on his heel. Transitioning into his Camp Counselor Voice, he calls, “Super Secret Agents, we’re heading inside!”

“See ya, Tsukki!” Kuroo calls, flashing a grin and a peace sign.

Kei pauses, looking back over his shoulder. He won’t see Kuroo for a week. He has time to think of what he’ll say next time, right? “See you later, Kuroo-san.”

🧬

The rest of the first day of camp goes by without any events of note. Kei and Yamaguchi teach their campers about forensic science and crime scene investigations, and tell them that tomorrow, they’re going to investigate a crime of their own.

The curriculum manual they have says that the crime is supposed to be a theft at the candy store; after their Tuesday morning recess, Kei and Yamaguchi are supposed to set up a fake crime scene in the classroom so their campers can investigate for clues. But on Tuesday morning, as they troop up the stairs to their classroom, one of the campers asks, “Where’s Kuroo-san?”

Before either Kei or Yamaguchi can respond, another camper says thoughtfully, “I saw him talking to Tsukki-san yesterday after my mom dropped me off, but he wasn’t at lunch or recess…”

“Kuroo-san is _never_ gone,” one of the third-graders says emphatically. “He’s been here every single day I’ve been at camp! Every single summer!”

Kei holds the door open as Yamaguchi calls, “Okay, campers, put your things in your cubbies and sit on the carpet.” Still chattering with each other about Kuroo’s absence, their kids move toward the cubbies, putting away backpacks and pulling camp t-shirts over their clothes. Automatically, Kei follows his campers into the classroom, issuing his usual morning reminders as they settle into their tables – _Nanami, put your camp shirt on; Jiro, your Pokemon cards have to stay in your bag until recess; Megumi, close your water bottle before it spills_.

Now that he thinks about it, Kuroo hasn’t taken a vacation since they both started working at the museum, and he’s never even been sick – he’s probably an integral part of the third-graders’ everyday camp experience. Through that lens, Kuroo being gone is, in fact, a valid cause for concern.

_Or maybe you just miss him_ , says a voice in Kei’s head that sounds eerily like Yamaguchi. Kei tells the voice in no uncertain terms to shut up.

Being third and fourth-graders, the campers come up with conspiracy theories faster than Kei and Yamaguchi can keep up; within the ten minutes it takes them to settle down at their tables, all twenty of their campers firmly believe that Kuroo was kidnapped. As their campers breathlessly theorize where Kuroo might be, or who kidnapped him, Yamaguchi pulls Kei and their high school aide aside for a quick conference, whispering, “We might as well roll with it.” Kei nods, and with that, their forensic science camp turns into an investigation of Kuroo’s mysterious disappearance.

One quick radio call to Suga and Takeda later, Kei and Yamaguchi shepherd their campers out to the front of the museum, where they line up after drop-off every morning – the last place the campers saw Kuroo before he disappeared. Yamaguchi hands out investigation packets and pencils for them to document the information they find at the crime scene, while Kei sternly instructs them to stay with their group and passes out magnifying glasses and fingerprint powder. (Immediately, one group spills their fingerprint powder all over the stairs. Kei sends up a silent apology to the cleaning staff.)

Under their watchful eye, the campers dust the entrance for fingerprints (with inconclusive results, as hundreds of people pass through the museum entrance every day), then investigate the museum exhibits looking for clues (okay, Kuroo hasn’t even been in the exhibits this week, but it’s helping their campers blow off energy so Kei’s not going to say anything). When they’re back in the classroom, the campers press each other’s fingers to ink pads to gather fingerprints, and studiously compare them to the fingerprints they collected. Every finding, no matter how small ( _I found a gum wrapper on the stairs! It might be Kuroo-san’s!_ ) is documented faithfully in the campers’ investigation packets.

“The next part of a crime scene investigation,” Yamaguchi lectures, when they’re back from lunch that afternoon, “is gathering eyewitness testimony. Tsukki, what’s an eyewitness?”

“An eyewitness is someone who saw something important to your investigation,” Kei explains. He isn’t quite prepared for how the campers’ heads whip over to stare at him. “What is it?”

“Tsukki-san, _you_ were one of the last people who saw Kuroo-san!”

“We saw you talking to him right before we went inside!”

“I was the second to last person to see him,” Kei defends himself. “Suga-san told me he saw him in the ops lead office right before lunch.” Of course, if he was leaving work early, he would have had to check out with the ops leads, but he withholds that fact for the sake of the campers’ investigation.

As the campers chat with each other, Kei and Yamaguchi get them set up with crayons, markers, pencils, and paper for the next part of the day: drawing up missing posters to see if anyone in the other camps has seen Kuroo.

“While you’re drawing, you can come up with questions to ask Tsukki-san and Suga-san,” Yamaguchi chirps, “since they were the last people to see Kuroo-san before he disappeared.”

“Yes, Yamaguchi-san!” the campers chorus. As they start to draw pictures of Kuroo for their missing posters – _does his hair go over his left or right eye?_ _do you think this looks spiky enough that people will know it’s Kuroo-san?_ – Kei sends their high school aide down the hall to the ops leads’ office to fetch Suga (and brief him on what he’s getting dragged into before they call him in). 

When he arrives, Suga gamely plays along, the twinkle in his eye the only sign of his amusement. “Kuroo-san said he was going to lunch the last time I saw him,” he says, playing the distraught ops lead perfectly. “I haven’t seen him since. Do you think you can help us find him?”

The campers stumble over themselves to assure Suga that they’ll do their best. Suga says, “Well, I leave the investigation in your capable hands,” and winks at Kei and Yamaguchi on his way out the door. 

Next, the campers interview Kei, investigation packets clutched in their tiny hands. “Tsukki-san, what was the last conversation you had with Kuroo-san?”

“He asked if I would miss him – uh, because we’ve been working so many camps together this summer,” Kei clarifies, because the third- and fourth-graders are still prone to speculation about the camp counselors’ love lives. “But this week, we’re obviously not working together.”

“I remember this!” one fourth-grader chimes in. “And then you said ‘Absolutely not’, right?”

“Do you regret being so mean to Kuroo-san?” asks one of the third-graders, looking sad.

“I do miss him,” says Kei honestly, doing his best to ignore Yamaguchi’s shit-eating grin somewhere to his left. “But if we find him, don’t tell him I said that. It’ll definitely go to his head.” 

“Megumi-chan, I think Tsukki-san is a tsundere,” one of the third-graders whispers to her friend. If Yamaguchi’s grin was any wider, his face would split in half. Kei briefly entertains the thought of strangling him, but then remembers that the presence of twenty campers, who would probably see a brawl between teachers as either the funniest or the most terrifying event of their lives, would definitely put a damper on the whole thing. 

🧬

The next morning, Kei and Yamaguchi arrive at the museum a good half-hour earlier than usual, ducking into their classroom to grab the missing posters their campers made yesterday. Armed with a roll of masking tape and the stack of posters, they start taping the posters up around the back hallways of the museum, where all the campers will see them (but, as per admin instructions, visitors to the museum won’t). 

Being third and fourth graders, some of their campers are excellent artists. Others… not so much. Kei finds himself smiling fondly at one missing poster, which depicts Kuroo as a crayon stick figure with a shock of black, spiky hair. He pulls out his phone to take pictures of his favorites, as Yamaguchi chatters next to him – “And so I said to Tanaka,” says Yamaguchi, as Kei snaps a picture of another poster, “that Ennoshita looks at him like he’s dying to be dip-kissed in front of all the campers.”

He pauses for effect. Finding Kei unresponsive, he reaches out to poke him in the side; Kei recoils instinctively, snapping back to reality to find Yamaguchi smirking. “You’re not even listening to me, are you, Tsukki?”

“Um,” says Kei.

“You _miss_ him,” Yamaguchi singsongs, gesticulating at the varyingly accurate pictures of Kuroo that paper the wall. “You haven’t seen him at work in a day and a half and you _miss_ him.”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.” Kei revels in his (temporary) ability to say so at work; Yamaguchi remains blithely unaffected. He tears off another piece of tape, passing it to Kei. “Just text him, you coward. Hurry up and maybe we can get coffee before the morning meeting.” They make their way through the rest of the posters, papering the walls with their campers’ art, swing by the cafeteria for a cup of coffee, and head off to the morning meeting.

When they get there, Ennoshita is inexplicably handing out a stack of temporary tattoos. “Put this on somewhere the kids can see,” Tanaka says, rucking up the sleeve of his t-shirt slightly to show off a tattoo of a T. rex skull. “I convinced them it’s the mark of a dark wizard.”

Kei squints at Tanaka’s bicep. Tanaka flexes and the tattoo ripples a little; it might be distracting, if 1) Tanaka were his type at all and 2) Tanaka weren’t basically his brother-in-law (thanks, Akiteru). “Wait, aren’t these tattoos from the front desk?”

“Yeah, but they don’t hand them out to visitors,” says Ennoshita, passing a wet towel over to Yamaguchi, who peels the tattoo off its backing and presses it to the back of his hand with the towel. “The skulls were a little too scary for the test audience. So Ukai let us have these for free.”

“The printers forgot to print the museum logo on the tattoos,” Suga chimes in, tapping the T. rex skull on the back of his left hand. It _is_ notably logo-less, now that Kei looks a little closer. “They wouldn’t want to hand it out anyway.”

Yamaguchi hands Kei the towel absent-mindedly, deep in thought about something or other. As Kei applies the tattoo to his forearm, right about where his Triceratops tattoo had been a couple of weeks ago, Yamaguchi suddenly turns to him, eyes wide open. “Wait, Tsukki, we could totally tie this to our camp. What if – hear me out – what if the dark wizards kidnapped Kuroo?”

“ _God_ , you’re so smart, Yamaguchi,” Tanaka pulls Yamaguchi into a headlock, giving him a loving noogie. Kei hands the wet towel off to Iwaizumi on his left as Ennoshita drawls, “Wow, I love the summer camp cinematic universe.”

Suga claps, drawing everyone’s attention. “Lab Wizards, Super Secret Agents, figure out your cinematic universe later. Let’s get this meeting started.”

🧬

_National Museum of Nature and Science, Tokyo  
Summer 2016_

Tetsurou’s older sister, Satomi, moved to Los Angeles to do her master’s when Tetsurou was a second-year in high school. In the middle of Tetsurou’s first year at Tohoku University, she moved up to Seattle to do her Ph.D. His sister’s single-minded devotion to academia means that in the past six years, he’s seen her in person once or twice a year (although they make an effort, as a family, to hop on a video call once or twice a month). 

This week, she’s flown out to Tokyo a few days before a conference to spend some extra time with her family before she jets back to Seattle with her labmates afterward.

This family trip to the National Museum of Nature and Science is really more for Satomi and Tetsurou; their father, a businessman, and their mother, a graphic designer, have minimal interest in the museum. But as Tetsurou and Satomi gush about each exhibit, swapping weird facts they read directly off the displays, their mother subtly takes photos, probably to post on Facebook later, and their father watches the two of them with a small, proud smile. 

Some things, however, are a little much for their parents to take, like the preserved great white shark that’s the centerpiece of the special exhibit. “Tetsu, look at this,” Satomi says, gesturing at the shark. “This is the first ever immersed specimen of a great white shark in the world. Isn’t that wild?” Their mother grimaces, and redirects them out of the exhibit as soon as she can.

As they meander through the rest of the museum, Satomi describes the natural history museum at the university where she’s doing her Ph.D – _it’s cool, but nowhere_ near _as nice as this one, all the good stuff is buried in the collections. They have a cute display about Obon in the basement, though_ – and Tetsurou catches his sister up on what’s happening at his museum this summer – _last week my campers dropped eggs off the roof of the museum and they didn’t even break! I’m so proud!_

Eventually, their parents pull them away from the exhibits to take them to lunch at the restaurant inside the museum. Seeing the many dinosaur-themed items on the menu, Tetsurou immediately pulls out his phone to text pictures of them to Tsukki, only to see that he’s missed a few messages:

> **Tsukki** **🌙** 12:25 PM **  
> **[ _Image: A missing poster for Kuroo, drawn on a piece of printer paper. The poster lists his name, height, hair color, and eye color. The camper drew him in a camp t-shirt and cargo shorts, and he’s making a catlike :3 face._ ] **  
> **The kids think you got kidnapped.  
>  They miss you.
> 
> **Me** 1:02 PM  
> wtffff that’s adorable  
> what about u do u miss me :3c
> 
> **Tsukki** **🌙** 1:02 PM **  
> **In your dreams.

“Are you texting Kenma?” Satomi asks, leaning her chin on Tetsurou’s shoulder. “Oh. _Ohhh_. That’s not Kenma at all. ‘In your dreams’? Got something to catch me up on, little brother?” 

Like her brother after her, Satomi is something of a provocation expert. _Not in front of Mom and Dad,_ Tetsurou mouths pleadingly. She lets it drop, but glares at him in a way that promises they _will_ have a talk later. Before she can change her mind, he turns back to his conversation with Tsukki.

> **Me** 1:04 PM  
> aww it’s ok tsukki   
> u don’t have to say it i already know <3 <3 <3   
> anyway check out this dinosaur foot shaped hamburger   
> [ _Image: A picture of a menu. The camera is focused on_[ _a picture of a hamburger patty cut into the shape of a dinosaur’s foot_](https://www.seiyoken.co.jp/c/wp-content/uploads/%C3%A6%C2%81%C2%90%C3%A7%C2%AB%C2%9C%C3%A3%C2%81%C2%AE%C3%A8%C2%B6%C2%B3%C3%A5%C2%9E%C2%8B%C3%A3%C2%83%C2%8F%C3%A3%C2%83%C2%B3%C3%A3%C2%83%C2%90%C3%A3%C2%83%C2%BC%C3%A3%C2%82%C2%B0.jpg) _. Around that picture, other photographs display other dinosaur-themed items.]_
> 
> **Tsukki** **🌙** 1:05 PM **  
> **Oh my god.
> 
> **Me** 1:05 PM  
> they might look at me funny if i get the hamburger   
> but i’ll let u know how the dinosaur parfait is xoxo
> 
> **Tsukki** **🌙** 1:06 PM **  
> **Tell them you’re just a very large child.

“Stop texting and decide what you’re going to order,” Satomi grumbles, poking him in the side with the menu. “Our parking expires in an hour, and I want to hit the gift shop to get omiyage before we leave.”

🧬

After lunch (the dinosaur parfait, as it turns out, is delicious) and a quick trip to the gift shop, Tetsurou’s family drops him off at Kenma’s place. “You’re only in town for a few days,” his mother had said at lunch. “It would be criminal of us to keep you two apart.” 

Kenma’s apartment isn’t quite Roppongi Hills, but it’s fairly nice. A student by day and a verified streamer by night, he’s made enough off various endorsement deals that he lives pretty comfortably in a nice studio twenty minutes from Tokyo University. To be fair, Tetsurou’s standard is pretty low, as he is just an average college student sharing a shitty student apartment with Bokuto and Akaashi.

They’re perched on the couch, Tetsurou frantically mashing buttons as Kenma coolly destroys him at Smash, when Kenma says casually, “Tsukishima sent me some pictures your campers drew of you.”

“Oh yeah? What do you think of our campers’ art skills?”

“My favorite is the stick figure with spikes on its head. Looks just like you,” Kenma retorts, because he’s a little shit like that. Onscreen, his Kirby pulls out a sword and chops at Tetsurou’s Mewtwo. “Sounds like he misses you. Have you talked to him this week?”

Caught off guard, Tetsurou hits the wrong button. “Uh.” In the ensuing delay, Kirby dodges Mewtwo’s attack and grabs it, slamming it into the ground. “I sent him a picture of the dinosaur parfait I had today?”

“That’s it?” Kenma punches out a combo that sends Mewtwo flying offscreen. Unlike his match against Iwaizumi, Tetsurou’s actually able to make a comeback from this one; Mewtwo grabs the edge of the stage as Kenma continues. “Like you said at the start of the summer, it’s your last year in Miyagi. If you’re going to do anything, next week is your last chance.”

The Final Smash ball appears, and Mewtwo desperately runs for it; Kirby inhales Mewtwo and drops like a rock off the edge of the stage. 

“ _Game!_ ” the announcer booms, as Tetsurou whines, “Kenmaaaaa.”

“If you don’t say anything, I have to deal with you moping until you get over it,” Kenma points out matter-of-factly. He turns to face Tetsurou, the game on the screen forgotten. “Listen, I’m not saying you need to burst into his classroom and confess your love or whatever. But you should, you know, maybe say something.”

On the couch between them, Tetsurou’s phone buzzes.

> **Tsukki** **🌙** 4:07 PM **  
> **I’m pretty sure the campers will lose it when they see you on Monday.  
>  They’re absolutely convinced that you’ve been kidnapped by a group of dark wizards.

Kenma’s gaze darts down to the phone buzzing between them, then back up to Tetsurou. “Actually, just be your dramatic self. You know what to do.”

“Kenma, you genius,” Tetsurou breathes, already grabbing his phone.

> **Me** 4:08 PM **  
> **bo akaashi i need ur help  
>  what are the rumors goin around about my ~~mysterious disappearance~~
> 
> **brokuto koutabro** 4:09 PM **  
> **OH DW BRO WE GOTCHU
> 
> **[bokuto voice] AGHHGAAAAASHI** 4:09 PM **  
> **Sit back and let us catch you up on the Summer Camp Cinematic Universe.

* * *

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2015_

At the end of the fourth week of Tetsurou’s second summer of camp, Sawamura Daichi broke up with him. Although the decision hadn’t necessarily been mutual, Tetsurou understood why; Daichi just didn’t see them going anywhere past that summer and Tetsurou, reluctantly, had to agree. 

So, single again after his first college relationship, Tetsurou took some time to reevaluate himself, just like the protagonists in the romantic comedies he and his roommates would only admit to watching under extreme duress. Bokuto and Akaashi bought him ice cream and generously minimized their PDA around the apartment for a whole week after the breakup.

By the time Tetsurou started to catch them making out on the couch again, he felt better; although he was sad, he wouldn’t call himself heartbroken by any means. Work kept him busy enough that he didn’t even think about his sadness, most days. He and Daichi had been assigned to separate camps for the last two weeks of the summer, so he didn’t even have to sneak into the ops leads’ office to beg Takeda to change his schedule or anything like that.

So he worked Lab Wizards with Bokuto for the fifth week, and then Engineers in Training with Tsukki for the last week of camp. It had been a little awkward between him and Tsukki throughout the first part of the summer, for reasons Tetsurou still wasn’t quite clear on, but things had been clearing up since he’d pulled Tsukki aside for an awkward confrontation a few weeks back. (It had been pretty sucky to _not_ talk with Tsukki as much this summer, to be honest. He’d thought that after last summer, they’d become work friends at the very least.)

Despite the rough patches they’d had earlier in the summer, they made a good team that week. It was the end of Tsukki’s first summer as a full-fledged camp counselor, and it was clear that he’d really come into his own since his first year as a prickly high school aide. Tetsurou still fondly recalled the time he’d nearly driven a middle-schooler to tears trying to explain why fins couldn’t be attached to a rocket upside-down. The Tsukki of this summer, while he definitely wasn’t perfect, had definitely gotten _much_ better at dealing with kids. He’d grown up a lot.

During one recess, while Tetsurou patrolled lazily around the playground and most of their campers were caught up in a cutthroat game of soccer, he spotted Kei talking with Ayano, one of their oldest campers. It was her last summer of camp; she’d be a high schooler next year, and from what Tetsurou caught of the conversation, she was nervous about the whole thing. He slowed his pace to listen in on what was happening, keeping an eye on the soccer field.

“I just feel like when you go to high school, you have to have it all figured out.” Perched on one of the large rocks at the edge of the playground, Ayano picked morosely at the skin around her thumbnail. “All my friends already know what high schools they want to go to and what they want to be when they grow up, and I don’t have a clue.”

“Let me tell you a secret, Ayano-chan,” said Tsukki, sitting down on the ground next to the rock. “I just graduated high school this past spring, and you know what? No one really knows what they’re doing when they start.”

“Really, Tsukishima-san?”

“Really,” confirmed Tsukishima. “Even if you think you know what you’ll do when you start, it’s more likely than not that you’ll change your mind in the next few years.”

“What about you? Did you know what you wanted to do?” asked Ayano. 

At this point, Tetsurou wasn’t even pretending to watch the soccer game. He slowed down even further as Tsukki answered, “Even when I was a third-year in high school, I didn’t really know what I wanted to do after high school. But that summer, someone told me something that stuck with me.” He smiled, as if recalling a fond memory. “He said, ‘At some point, you’ll have a moment where something inside of you sits up and says _I could spend the rest of my life learning about this._ ’” 

The words brought Tetsurou to an abrupt halt; the movement caught Tsukki’s eye, and they both stared at each other wide-eyed for a moment. Those were _his_ words, being quoted back at him – okay, well, not _at_ him, he wasn’t technically part of this conversation – a whole year later. The fact that Tsukki had held on to those words for this long, even when he hadn’t spoken to Tetsurou for the first half of the summer, made something inside him do a flip. _Wait, hold up, does that mean something?_

Tsukki dragged his gaze away, focusing on Ayano again. “That moment might happen to you tomorrow, or it might happen after you graduate high school. But I think no matter when it happens, it’ll help you decide what you want to do next.”

“Hm.” Ayano frowned, deep in thought. “Tsukishima-san, whoever told you that must have been super smart!”

“Not really,” said Tsukki, and met Tetsurou’s eyes with a smirk. Something inside Tetsurou did a flip again. (He would later go on to spend the next nine months overanalyzing this conversation with Kenma.) “But when that guy had a point, he had a point.”

* * *

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2016_

On Friday morning, Tetsurou sneaks into the camp next door to Tsukki’s, where the middle schoolers are doing a coding camp with Akaashi and Bokuto. They all look up at him, and Hinata’s little sister says, unimpressed, “Oh, he’s not dead,” before they turn back to their computers, engrossed in their current coding challenge. 

Tetsurou shuffles toward the back of the room, where Bokuto is sprawled over a computer chair and Akaashi is leaning up against the counter. “I thought the kids missed me,” he grouses.

“The little ones did!” Bokuto says brightly. “But the bigger ones… well…” To supplement Bokuto’s point, Akaashi gives an expressive shrug that practically screams _Middle schoolers, what can you do?_

Ouch. Will they miss Tetsurou next summer when he’s gone for real? He refocuses. “Anyway. I need your help, Bo. Super Secret Agents is right next door, right?”

“Yes,” says Akaashi cautiously.

“Okay, so remember what I texted you about yesterday?” says Tetsurou, and leans in close to whisper into their ears.

Five minutes later, the middle schoolers look on with varying degrees of amusement as Bokuto ties Tetsurou’s hands behind his back with the sleeves of his hoodie. “Grown-ups are so weird,” he hears Hinata’s little sister say. 

“Natsu-chan, let me be the first to tell you that Kuroo-san is absolutely not a grown-up,” Akaashi replies.

This week, it’s cooler, and the door between the computer lab and the classroom next door is closed for once. “Can you open it,” Tetsurou hisses to Bokuto, who obligingly twists the knob for him, opening the door with a slow _creeeeeak_.

Tsukki is standing a few feet away, helping a tableful of campers compile their final investigation report for the week. He’s the only person in the room facing the door at the moment; when the door creaks open, he looks briefly surprised, but quickly schools his face back into a neutral expression. 

Tetsurou shoots him a wink and quietly steps into the classroom, intending to stagger around a bit and then collapse dramatically on the floor. Three steps later, he loses his balance, and starts to fall – too late, he realizes his hands are tied behind his back. There’s nothing to catch his fall. 

Or so he thinks.

Seeing the clear panic on his face, Tsukki ducks around the table, most likely intending to grab him by the arm and haul him upright; by the time he gets there, though, Tetsurou has gained too much momentum. It’s too late for the both of them. He and Tsukki fall to the floor with a resounding _crash_.

The fall is surprisingly soft for the most part, although he bangs his knee on the ground going down, and there’s something pointy digging into Tetsurou’s ribs. When he opens his eyes again, he realizes just why the fall was so soft: he’s landed right on top of Tsukki, and the something pointy digging into Tetsurou’s ribs is Tsukki’s elbow.

Without meaning to, his gaze drops to Tsukki’s mouth, then snaps back up to his eyes. Less than six inches away from him, Tsukki looks down at his mouth, then makes eye contact with him again, slowly but surely turning red.

For a moment, the campers sit in stunned silence, while sirens go off in the back of Tetsurou’s head. _He’s so close holy shit holy shit holy shit —_

Before Tetsurou can do something stupid like maybe kissing Tsukki, the camp explodes into pandemonium. The campers swarm them, babbling about Kuroo’s disappearance and investigations and dark wizards. Through the doorway behind him, he can hear the middle schoolers laughing uproariously; across the room, Yamaguchi is clearly making a noble effort to suppress his own laughter.

The abrupt reminder of their audience kills the mood a little bit; Tetsurou rolls to the side and maneuvers himself into an upright position. “I’d help you up,” he jokes, “but my hands are a little occupied right now.”

“I’ve got it,” says Tsukki, and moves behind Tetsurou to untie the hoodie tied around his wrists. Getting up, he extends a hand to Tetsurou to help him up. As Tsukki pulls him to his feet, Tetsurou finds that his temporary humiliation is _so_ worth the tiny, tiny smile on Tsukki’s face.

( _Fuck, I’m in deep_ , he thinks.)

“Kuroo-san, Kuroo-san,” one of the third-graders says confidentially, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He bends down to hear her better. “Tsukki-san told us not to tell you, but he missed you.” Just behind her, Tsukki looks distinctly betrayed. Kuroo grins.

🧬

This week, Kei has learned one thing: however much time you _think_ you have to prepare for something, the world will absolutely _not_ give you that much time. Case in point: he was supposed to have this week to figure out how to confess to Kuroo before he leaves camp (and maybe Kei’s life) forever, but Kuroo showed up on Monday and literally fell into his arms today. It’s safe to say Kei’s been thrown off his rhythm.

He needs a minute to, like, sit down and process everything that’s happened today. He drops his campers off at recess, then goes to take his lunch break in the ops leads’ office. Inexplicably, Kuroo is there, despite the fact that he’s not on the clock and isn’t getting paid for a second of his time today. The world just will not give Kei a break. 

He sits down in the chair next to Kuroo anyway. “Thanks for what you did with the campers today,” he says awkwardly. “I think it might have been the highlight of their summer.”

“It was no problem, Tsukki.”

“I think your knee would say otherwise.”

Kuroo winces. “It was more painful for you. Thanks for taking the fall for me, I appreciate it.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Kei feels it necessary to point out. “But really, you’re always helping me. You always have been. The last three summers with you have been… alright.” Kuroo gasps dramatically; Kei rolls his eyes, despite the panic rapidly building inside him, and keeps going. “I might actually miss you when you’re gone. I know it may not look it, but I—”

He’s so close to telling Kuroo. He’s _so_ close. And then, because the universe hates Tsukishima Kei, Bokuto bursts into the breakroom. 

“Tsukki, holy shit,” Bokuto wheezes in between guffaws, “I know you’re on break, but the campers in Lab Wizards think _Yamaguchi_ is the dark wizard that kidnapped Kuroo.”

“I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when I’m back on the clock,” Kei says, a little more icily than he intends. Kuroo looks like he is trying very hard to use their rumored roommate telepathy to communicate something to Bokuto. Something must get through; Bokuto grins and says, “Alright, I’ll catch you up later, Tsukki!” and disappears through the door, leaving them alone again.

“So,” Kuroo drawls. “It may not look it, but you…?”

“I… I’ll see you next week, Kuroo-san.”

Maybe Kei’s too much of a coward to say anything right now, but he’s got the weekend to regroup and figure out his plan. From what he saw earlier, Kuroo’s at least a little bit interested, right? It’ll happen for sure next week – there’s no other time to tell him.

(And if Kei spends the rest of the weekend agonizing about Kuroo being _so close to him_ , that’s no one’s business but his own.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the dinosaur-themed food that kuroo talks about is real! [restaurant mouseion](https://www.seiyoken.co.jp/restaurant/kahaku/cuisine.html) is the cafe inside the national museum of nature and science. i want to go there now and try that dinosaur parfait.
> 
> these are dark times right now, so i hope y'all are taking care of yourselves and each other. i'll see you next week for kuroo and tsukishima's last week of summer!


	6. the last day of summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer's coming to an end, and some things need to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _Where do you go when it's over?_   
>  _What do you do when you come to the last day of summer?_   
> 
> 
> — ["The Last Day of Summer", _The Lightning Thief: The Musical_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0SjdMKeQAQ)

_Kei & Yamaguchi’s Apartment  
Summer 2016_

After the hot mess that was last week, Kei does not spend the weekend Googling things like _how to tell someone you’ve kind of been in love with them for the last three summers_ , but he does give it some serious thought. To his credit, Yamaguchi kindly gives Kei space to process what he’s feeling, but he also blasts Filipino music around the apartment like he’s putting together the soundtrack to the cheesy romcom that is Kei’s life. Kei thinks these two actions pretty much cancel each other out.

On Sunday, Yamaguchi turns down the music, strides over to where Kei’s curled up on their huge beanbag, and pokes Kei in the ribs with his foot. “Tsukki, get up and help me make dinner.” They’ve been living off takeout for the past week; their belated realization that _shit, summer homework is due in two weeks_ means that they’ve spent every evening after camp ends working on their summer assignments. (Their high school selves would be so disappointed in them. Kei can’t bring himself to be too upset, though; they may not be as academically excellent as they were in high school, but the work gets done, and that’s what matters. He may never have Kageyama and Hinata’s _Cs get degrees_ mindset, but he’s lightened up a _little_ since graduating high school.)

As Kei reluctantly rolls off the beanbag and heaves himself to his feet, he asks, “What are you thinking of making?” 

“Tonkatsu!” Yamaguchi gestures toward the kitchen counter, where his laptop is presumably open to a recipe. “My mom sent me this link today. She said to eat some vegetables with it.” They both pause, in silent acknowledgment of the fact that they’re probably _not_ going to eat any vegetables this evening. “Anyway, if you take care of breading the pork cutlets, I’ll fry them.”

“You just don’t want to get the batter on your hands,” Kei complains, but follows Yamaguchi to the kitchen. As Yamaguchi starts heating oil on their stove and Kei starts coating the pork cutlets in flour, egg, and panko, the latest song off Yamaguchi’s playlist floats softly through the air: _Subukan mong magmahal, o giliw ko…_

The song is cut off mid-line by Yamaguchi’s ringtone. As Yamaguchi props his phone up on the counter, Kei braces himself for another loving interrogation from Auntie Maria; he’s pleasantly surprised to see Yachi on the other end of the video call instead.

“Tsukki!” she says, delighted. Behind her, her apartment is so neat and tidy it’s practically sparkling. Kei feels a brief pang of shame at the messy kitchen visible behind them, before remembering that when she’s in Tokyo for school, Yachi regularly spends time at Kageyama and Hinata’s apartment, which is ten times worse than their place on its messiest day. “I want updates! Did you talk to Kuroo-san yet?”

Perhaps he hasn’t dodged the loving interrogation, after all. “Hello, Yachi,” he deadpans. “I’m doing well. How are you? Are you ready for school to start again next week?”

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi scolds, shoving him in the shoulder. Kei’s hands are covered in batter, and he cannot retaliate; he settles for shooting Yamaguchi his iciest glare instead. Unfazed, Yamaguchi recaps the events of the past week for Yachi, who finds them infinitely funnier than Kei does.

“Oh my gosh,” she giggles, as Yamaguchi concludes the thrilling tale of Kuroo’s dramatic entrance into camp last Friday. “He fell into your arms? It almost sounds like something out of a shoujo anime. That’s sweet of him, though, don’t you think? He didn’t have to come in at all last Friday, but he did.”

“It was probably for the campers. He’s dramatic like that,” says Kei reflexively. Through the screen, Yachi levels him with an unimpressed look. A glance to his left confirms that Yamaguchi is giving him the exact same look.

“Mhm,” Yamaguchi hums, in a way that implies he doesn’t believe that in the slightest. 

Before Kei can debate that point, Yachi intervenes. “Anyway, Tsukki, when are you going to tell him?”

“Well, it’s the last week of camp, so… sometime in the next five days.”

Both Yamaguchi and Yachi look like they’ve been taken aback by the matter-of-fact nature in which Kei says this, but they bounce back quickly. “Well, you have our support!” Yachi beams. “Though I’m sure Tadashi’s told you enough times for the both of us.”

“... Thanks,” Kei mumbles, coating the last piece of pork in panko. “Oi, Yamaguchi, start frying these, I want to eat sometime today.”

He washes his hands and heads over to the kitchen table. Opening up his laptop to do some of his summer readings, he lets Yamaguchi and Yachi’s chatter fade into the background. They deserve some time to talk on their own, before they start to get busy with school; keeping up a long-distance relationship takes a lot of work. It’s a long way from Sendai to Tokyo, and if Yamaguchi and Yachi were anyone else Kei wouldn’t have thought they’d make it. 

_That’s something else I’d have to deal with_ , he thinks, _if I even get that far._ Kuroo’s graduating in the spring, and he’s almost definitely going back home when he’s done with university. Sendai’s no hick town, but it’s nothing compared to Tokyo. If someone had a life and friends waiting for them in Tokyo, why would they stay here?

Eerily, as if he knows Kei’s thinking about Kuroo right now, Kenma texts at that moment. _I get the feeling you might have something to say to Kuroo this week._ Taken aback, Kei stares at the screen of his phone, not sure how to respond. The little three dots that indicate Kenma’s typing pop up several times before the next message finally appears. _Don’t overthink things too much. I really don’t think you have anything to worry about._

Not for the first time, Kei thinks to himself that Kenma texts like some kind of cryptic RPG character – which probably checks out, given what Kuroo’s told him about Kenma’s all-consuming love for video games. From the kitchen, Yamaguchi calls, “Tsukki, get back here, Yachi wants to say bye.”

“See you next time, Tsukki! I’m rooting for you,” says Yachi, when Kei pokes his head back into the call. “Let us know how it goes. And if it goes badly—” 

“Which we’re pretty sure it won’t!” Yamaguchi chips in cheerfully.

“—then I’ll hop the first train back from Tokyo and we can eat ice cream straight out of the carton and have a terrible romcom marathon, just like they do in the movies.” Kei knows just as well as Yachi does that tickets from Tokyo to Sendai don’t come cheap; the fact that she’s even offering means a lot.

“We believe in you, though, Tsukki,” Yachi finishes. She and Yamaguchi flash almost-identical grins and thumbs up at him, almost like they’d practiced the move while Kei wasn’t paying attention. (He wouldn’t put it past them.) “Go get your boy!”

Kei really hasn’t done much to deserve this level of belief, besides nurse the same crush for almost three years straight. The panic roiling in his stomach at the thought of saying anything to Kuroo abates briefly, knowing that Yamaguchi, Yachi, and even Kenma think he has a chance – and even more than that, they believe in him.

He taps out a quick _Thanks for the heads up_ to Kenma, then pockets his phone to give his friends a small but sincere smile. “Thanks. I’ll do my best.”

🧬

_3M Sendai City Science Museum  
Summer 2016_

The last week of camp is always a bit chaotic. It’s just a fact of life. Perishable materials bought two weeks ago, with little thought of the future, need to be consumed within the week. Materials that they’re short on are just materials they’re going to have to go without. (Kei is thankful that he’s not assigned to Super Secret Agents this week. Last week, his campers spilled most of the fingerprint powder, and this week Daichi and Oikawa are frantically trying to improvise in its absence.)

I Dig Dinosaurs, which Kei is running with Kuroo this week (because the universe either hates Kei or is determined to get him and Kuroo together – he’s still not sure which), is thankfully one of those camps that never seems to run short on materials. To balance it out, though, it is one of the absolute messiest camps to run, and since it’s the last week of camp they’re going to have to make sure the rooms are absolutely sparkling before they turn in their badges and leave.

There are lots of logistical considerations for counselors to juggle during the last week of camp, but Kei’s mind is occupied with one thing above all else: It’s the last week of camp, and he still hasn’t figured out what to say to Kuroo.

As is usual for the last week of camp, everyone arrives early on Monday to set up their classrooms and do some last-minute inventory. Kei’s elbow-deep in the plastic bin that holds all their camp supplies, trying to dislodge the tarp stuck to the bottom of the bin, when he hears Kuroo call from behind him, “Tsukki!” 

Kei extricates himself from the bin and turns around to see Kuroo hiding something behind his back. “I brought back omiyage for you. Omiyage to Miyagi, just like I said! Here, close your eyes. Hold your hand out.”

Kei complies, drawling, “What a poet.” Kuroo presses something round into Kei’s hand and curls his fingers around it. He opens his eyes and his hand to find a gachapon capsule. 

“Open it, open it, I want to see which one it is,” Kuroo says, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. Kei carefully pops the capsule open to find [a little model of a dinosaur](https://i0.wp.com/dinotoyblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/IMG_0216.jpg?resize=800%2C600). It’s a _Yi qi_ , a birdlike dinosaur with membranous wings and a shock of black-and-white tail feathers. Its confirmation as a whole new species of dinosaur had made waves among paleontologists last year; Kei’s Paleontology 101 professor had diverted from his carefully-made syllabus to spend a whole class period nerding out about it last spring.

Taken by surprise, Kei can do nothing but mumble a quiet “thank you”. It’s a cheap little toy, probably no more than 500 yen, but Kei finds himself ridiculously touched by the gesture anyway.

“Nothing but the best for my favorite future paleontologist,” Kuroo beams. As he rambles on about how the dinosaur exhibit had ended a couple of months back, but the gachapon machines from the exhibit were still there, Kei runs a finger gently over the _Yi qi_ ’s wings. It’s mounted on a base with a tiny name plate bearing its name in kanji and English letters, like it’s a tiny museum exhibit – a fitting memento of this summer, if there ever was one. “And see,” Kuroo adds, echoing his thoughts, “it looks like a little museum exhibit. So when you look at it, you can think of your favorite summer job and your favorite co-counselor.”

Mentally, Kei is screaming. But because being an asshole to deflect his feelings is something that comes instinctively to him, he responds, “Sorry, are you Yamaguchi?”

“So cold, Tsukki!” Kuroo complains, but he slings his arm over Kei’s shoulder with a good-natured grin. “You can make it up to me by buying me coffee before our morning meeting.”

“We get coffee for free,” Kei points out, but he doesn’t shrug Kuroo’s arm off. Carefully, he puts the little model down on the table next to the camp supplies, and lets Kuroo drag him to the cafeteria.

🧬

In the years since Tetsurou accidentally saw Tsukki delivering an impromptu lesson in the dinosaur exhibit, Tsukki’s love for dinosaurs has become a well-known fact among the campers. He’s the campers’ default source for dinosaur knowledge. If Tetsurou had a hundred yen for every time a camper said something like _Tsukki-san is studying to become a pa… pale-uh… a person who studies dinosaurs, so he knows everything about them!_ he would be… well, not a billionaire, but rich enough to buy Kenma a new game or two.

So it’s not that surprising when later that morning, one of the campers asks, “Tsukki-san, is this dinosaur yours?” She’s pointing to the little _Yi qi_ model, which is still sitting on the large table at the front of the room, standing out in all its brightly colored glory next to their neatly arranged camp materials. 

“Yes,” says Tsukki. “Kuroo-san gave it to me just now.” Tetsurou notes the careful way Tsukki steps around his absence last week, and notes _oh yeah, I need to come up with some sort of story about where I was._ A couple of the campers whisper to each other, probably having some variation of the _Are they married?_ conversation.

“Did you name it yet?” asks another camper. Over the past few years, Tetsurou has found that naming things is very important to the younger campers – whether it’s a rocket they built, a bug they found, or a fossil they excavated, they want to give it a name.

“Not yet. Do you want to help me name it?”

One camper squints at the model and announces, “It has black spikes on its head, just like Kuroo-san!” The other campers crowd closer to look at the model, then loudly agree, clamoring, “You should name it after Kuroo-san!”

Tetsurou isn’t sure whether he should be offended or, like, ridiculously pleased. The spikes on the _Yi qi_ ’s head aren’t nearly as pronounced as the spikes in his own hair. Still, he finds himself smiling, and that above all else tells him that he’s happy about the whole thing. Even if Tsukki doesn’t see him anymore after this summer, this dinosaur will be something for him to remember Tetsurou by.

God, that’s embarrassing. Tetsurou tables his gushing for later, making a mental note to call Kenma when he’s on break, and takes a minute to get himself back on track. That being done, he claps his hands and calls, “Campers, let’s give Tsukki-san and uh, dinosaur-me some space. Can you all sit down at your tables for me?” Obediently, the campers back off and head to their tables, and Tsukki launches into the day’s lesson. 

“Okay, this week we’re obviously studying dinosaurs. We learn about dinosaurs from the fossils they left behind. Can anybody tell me what a fossil is…?”

🧬

“Kuroo-san, what was it like being kidnapped?”

“Was it scary?”

“Was it Yamaguchi-san who kidnapped you?”

There’s a lot of overlap this week between the campers Tsukki had last week and the campers the two of them have this week, which means that as soon as recess begins, Tetsurou finds himself bombarded with questions about what happened to him last week. His knee is still pretty sore from when he fell last week, so he’s perched on one of the rocks at the edge of the playground, surrounded by campers who have set their games of foursquare and soccer aside to sate their burning curiosity.

Tetsurou is what his friends would politely describe as _dramatic_ , so he plays along with last week’s story with gusto. He spins his trip to Tokyo into a thrilling tale of adventure, where an evil witch spirited him away and kept him trapped in a dungeon as she chanted incantations over him. Finally, after three days, he was rescued by a brave knight, who held the evil witch off for long enough for him to escape to the museum. (Really, Satomi had needed a test audience for her conference presentation, and Kenma had driven him to the train station. But it’s fun to turn it into something a little more exciting for the kids.)

As the campers listen, wide-eyed, he fields campers’ questions about the dark wizard marks – the reject temporary tattoos from the front desk – explaining that the other camp counselors had been trying to infiltrate the evil witch’s organization. “They were trying to be secret agents and figure out where I went. But it was top-secret, so they couldn’t tell you guys anything.”

A shadow falls across the clump of campers gathered around him. They all look up to see Tsukki looking faintly amused. “I hate to interrupt your fascinating tale of adventure, but recess is almost over. Campers, do any of you need to get a drink before we head back inside?”

Tetsurou helps escort the campers to the water fountains and then back to the classroom, then flashes a two-fingered salute at Tsukki and heads out to the observation deck behind the museum to take his lunch break. 

When he opens his phone, the first thing that jumps out at him is a missed call from Kenma. This, in itself, is strange – Kenma hardly ever texts him first, and _never_ calls him. Without thinking, Tetsurou hits redial; as soon as Kenma picks up, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Kenma’s face scrunches up in confusion. He’s lying on the couch in his apartment, blankets pulled up to his chin, looking incredibly comfortable and not at all like anything is wrong. “I’m fine, why?”

“You never call me,” Tetsurou huffs. “I was worried.”

“Oh. Well, I figured today was special.” Kenma shuffles around, jostling the camera; the image stabilizes again to show him in an upright position, slouched against the arm of the couch. “Happy last week of camp.”

“Aw, thanks. Hard to believe summer’s almost over.” Tetsurou leans against the railing of the observation deck, looking over the forest behind the museum. “Did you finish your summer homework yet?” 

The resultant disgusted look on Kenma’s face is really all the answer he needs. 

“Anyway,” says Kenma, in what Tetsurou thinks is a very transparent attempt to change the subject. “It’s your last week working with Tsukishima, huh? Have you talked to him at all since you burst into his classroom last week?”

What Kenma’s saying may be a desperate way to get Tetsurou off his back about his summer homework, but it _works_. “Uh, I gave him the omiyage I got from the museum,” he mumbles. Kenma stares at him, unimpressed. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! It’s only Monday. I’m trying to figure out what to say to him.”

“Just _talk_ to him. Take him to see the dinosaurs or something.”

“Like, on a date?” Tetsurou asks, just to confirm. 

Kenma sighs like he doesn’t know why he’s bothering. Honestly, Tetsurou is impressed he’s maintained interest for this long. “Sure, like on a date. And if he doesn’t feel the same way, then you’re just two coworkers on a nice walk around the museum.”

At _if he doesn’t feel the same way_ , Tetsurou opens his mouth to voice the _what if_ that’s been nagging at him all summer – maybe for more than a year at this point – but Kenma beats him to it, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t overthink it, Kuro. You’re going to be fine.”

🧬

Every time Kei tries to get a minute alone with Kuroo throughout the week, someone else shows up. He can’t say anything on break when Suga is there, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously at Kei when Kuroo’s back is turned; he can’t say anything at afternoon pickup when Bokuto is asking Kuroo questions about his safety spiel for the rocket launches; he can’t say anything in their classroom when their campers are swarming around them, asking questions about that day’s activities.

He is, quite possibly, going to lose his mind. Dinosaur-Kuroo stands on the table at the front of the classroom, a tangible reminder that he _still_ hasn’t said or done anything. _Maybe you shouldn’t have procrastinated, then_ , says a voice in his head that sounds uncannily like his high school self. _Shut up_ , he tells the voice wearily.

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, while their campers are focused on sketching the dinosaur fossils they’ve “excavated” throughout the week, Kuroo asks him, “Hey, are you working extended day today?”

“No,” Kei replies, “but Yamaguchi is. Why?”

“Oh, nice,” says Kuroo excitedly, and then perceptibly dials it back a little. “Do you, uh, want to take a walk around the museum with me after work today?”

Kei ignores the voice in the back of his head asking _Is this a date?_ and says, “Sure,” before he can overthink it.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. They hang up their campers’ sketches of the dinosaur fossils on the whiteboard, using their entire stash of magnets, and shepherd them downstairs to get picked up by their parents. After pickup ends that day, Kei and Kuroo head upstairs to clean up and put their camp shirts away, chatting idly about the day’s events. As they head back into the museum, it hits Kei that they’re finally alone – or, well, alone in the fact that they’re being ignored. A group of kids from some other summer camp is running around as they wander into the dinosaur exhibit, and tourists are milling about, but for once, no one is there to interrupt them.

Kuroo takes a seat on a bench across the walkway from a _Stegosaurus_ skeleton, and Kei sits down next to him.

“Do you remember your first summer here?” Kuroo asks, leaning back against the bench. “I remember the campers were playing hide and seek, and I was walking around, and I found you giving a whole lesson to – ah, what was her name? Mira?”

“Mina, yeah, I remember,” Kei says. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and watches a couple of kids jabbering to each other in front of the _Stegosaurus_ skeleton. “Earlier that summer, you told me about how you had that one moment where you figured out what you wanted to spend the rest of your life learning about.” 

He pauses. They’ve got one day left together this summer. It’s now or never. He rests his elbows on his knees, hoping Kuroo can’t see him fidgeting with his fingers. Despite the way his heart’s almost audibly jackhammering in his chest, he pushes onward. 

“I think that day, in the museum – that was that one moment for me.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kuroo jolt upright – in shock? – but he keeps going, looking at the _Stegosaurus_ across the walkway. It’s easier to say embarrassing things like this when he’s not looking Kuroo in the eye. “I kept coming back to those words. Before, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do after high school. I had… mixed feelings about paleontology. But after that day, I started to think more seriously about studying it. It’s like you said. _I could spend the rest of my life learning more about this_.

“And at first, I thought I just admired you because you were a cool upperclassman who gave me some surprisingly good advice. But I think the summer after that, I realized that what I felt couldn’t just be chalked up to admiration.” 

The most embarrassing part is still to come. Kei clasps his shaking hands together, looks Kuroo in the eye, and plunges forward. 

“I like you, Kuroo-san. I have for a while. I just wanted to say that before our time here is over. Thank you for the past three summers.”

Silence stretches out between them. Kei is treated to the rare sight of Kuroo speechless and… blushing? Maybe the worst-case scenario Kei had been planning for won’t come to pass, after all. Nevertheless, just to cover his bases, he blurts out, “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay, I just – I wanted to say something before you leave.”

“What? Oh my god, no, Tsukki, I—” Kuroo takes a deep breath and says the next sentence in a rush. “I brought you here because I was going to confess to you, and you just beat me to it.”

Kei’s jaw drops.

“Because, like you said,” Kuroo continues, presumably taking Kei’s stunned silence as a cue to continue, “I’m leaving. It’s my last summer here, and I don’t want to let it go by without telling you that I’ve liked you for a while now. At first, I just wanted to get you to lighten up a little. But soon, I realized you’ve got so much potential, Tsukki. You act all cool, but you’re so passionate about the things you care about, and I really like that about you. And even when you’re laughing at me because I can’t hold a bug without screaming, you’re, like, unfairly handsome.”

As Kei sputters, Kuroo hits his stride, and keeps going. “Since that first summer, you’ve really grown a lot. It means a lot to know that I’m someone who helped along the way. So, thank you for the past three summers, Tsukki.” 

The smile Kuroo gives him is unbearably fond. Kei’s trying his best to play it cool, but he probably resembles a strawberry at this moment. “Holy _shit_ ,” he whispers.

With everything _finally_ laid out, they both sit there for a minute, a pair of blushing messes crowded together on a museum bench, before Kuroo breaks the silence. “Wow, but you thought I was _cool_?” he crows, his familiar shit-eating grin back on his face. “I’m never gonna forget this. Those are the kindest words I’ve ever heard from you, Tsukki.”

“Shut _up_ ,” groans Kei.

“Make me.” Seconds after saying this, Kuroo seems to realize what he’s said, and his eyes widen briefly in panic. Impulsively, Kei takes him up on that offer, and leans forward and kisses him to shut him up, right there in view of the dinosaur skeletons and everyone passing by.

Objectively, maybe it’s not a very good kiss. The angle is a little funny, and Kei’s not really sure what to do with his mouth once it’s pressed up against Kuroo’s. But Kuroo’s hand comes up to cup Kei’s jaw, tilting his head to a better angle, and as he deepens the kiss, it suddenly becomes much, much better. (Not that Kei has anything to compare it to. But subjectively, it’s pretty good.)

Kei pulls back after a little while, overwhelmed with the happenings of the past few minutes. Around them, the museum visitors go about their business undisturbed, either oblivious to what’s just happened or polite enough not to make a fuss about it.

“So,” Kuroo asks, a smile on his face, “does this make us boyfriends?”

“I – I don’t know.” The all-too-familiar uncertainty surges up in Kei like a wave, threatening to drag him down. He looks away from Kuroo and toward the _Stegosaurus_ across the walkway, trying to find the right words. “I like you. A lot. But you’re going to graduate next spring and go back to Tokyo, and what happens then?”

“Hey, Tsukki. Listen to me.” Kuroo places his hand on Kei’s cheek, gently turning Kei back to face him. “I’ll be going back to Tokyo, yeah, but next spring is a long way away. But right here, right now – _this_ is the one moment that matters.”

“Oh my god. You’re so cheesy,” Kei mumbles, ducking his head to hide his blush. He’s sure the tips of his ears are bright red, so the effort is most likely wasted.

This time, Kuroo lets him be, but slings his arm across Kei’s shoulders, pulling him a little closer. “You know, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the last three summers, it’s that we make a good team. We’re great at figuring things out as we go. Want to try figuring this out with me?”

Kei looks at Kuroo, and sees three summers’ worth of provocation, of improvisation on the fly, of growing together. Three summers’ worth of unforgettable moments, and maybe, if they’re lucky, many more summers of unforgettable moments to come.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling back at Kuroo. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

🧬

It’s the last day of summer, and the faint sense of _I’m-running-out-of-time_ panic Tetsurou’s been feeling all summer has faded away. Sure, now there’s the slightly more substantial panicked feeling of _School is starting in three days and I’m only halfway through my summer assignments_ , but, well. One thing at a time. 

Camp operations continue as normal, aside from the fact that Yamaguchi is shooting them smug, knowing glances throughout the morning meeting. ( _Yamaguchi will kill me if I don’t tell him immediately_ , Tsukki had said to him yesterday, and Tetsurou had replied, _Fair, Kenma will want to know, too_.)

“Remember, everyone,” says Takeda, as the meeting comes to a close, “you’ll need to wrap up your camp activities before lunch today. After lunch, we’ll set up the projector on the back lawn and have the campers watch a movie. Half of you will stay outside with them, and half of you will come back in here to clean up all the classrooms. We have to have all our stuff packed up by 6 tonight.”

(A variety of rock-paper-scissors games quietly break out in the room as the counselors furtively yet furiously battle for the right to _not_ have to clean. Takeda politely ignores them and continues to detail the plan for the afternoon.)

“That’s all the announcements,” Takeda says, as the last few matches wrap up. “Thank you for all your hard work this summer. Before we go, I especially want to recognize our graduating staff, who won’t be returning next year. Daichi, Suga, Kuroo, Bokuto, Oikawa, Iwaizumi: all of you have been with us for the past three years, and we’re so lucky to have had you.” He pulls six small packages from his bag and hands them out. “It’s not much, but we hope it can be a memento of your years with us.”

The package, Tetsurou finds out upon opening it, consists of a baseball cap with the museum’s logo on it and a framed copy of the counselor group photo they’d taken at the start of the summer. He, Iwaizumi, and Daichi put the caps on, pulling the brims down to hide their faces. Oikawa, who usually wears his heart on his sleeve, has no such instinct to hide his face, and just immediately starts to tear up. Bokuto puts the cap on backwards with a grin, but his smile is a little watery. For his part, Suga’s eyes are suspiciously shiny under the brim of his new cap, but he sends them off with a cheerful, “Have a good last day of camp, everyone!”

“I also wanted to say,” Oikawa chimes in, sniffling a little bit, “that me and Iwa-chan will be hosting an end-of-the-summer party tomorrow. Everyone should come, because it’s the last time we’ll all be together!”

The oldest counselors take a few minutes to compose themselves, then everyone starts heading down to morning dropoff to get their campers. Tetsurou and Tsukki lag near the back of the group; Yamaguchi falls into step next to the two of them as they make their way to the museum entrance, shooting them an exaggerated wink. 

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” grumbles Tsukki.

With an angelic smile, Yamaguchi points out, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know you’re going to say something,” Tsukki counters.

“Tsukki, as your best friend,” Yamaguchi lowers his voice to a whisper, darting a glance toward the rest of the counselors, “aren’t I supposed to give Kuroo-san the shovel talk?” Tetsurou opens his mouth to protest, but Yamaguchi cuts him off. “I’m just kidding! Anyway, congratulations. I’m happy the two of you finally got it together.”

In his pocket, Tetsurou knows, there’s a text from Kenma saying much the same thing. He’s mature enough to acknowledge that he never would’ve made it this far without all their friends’ intervention. “Thanks for your help, Yamaguchi-kun. Guess we’ll be seeing more of each other this year.”

“Oh, I look forward to it,” Yamaguchi says, his angelic smile morphing into a devilish grin. “Now that you two are official, I can tell you _all_ about what Tsukki was like in middle school.”

“Shut _up_ , Yamaguchi!”

🧬

_Oikawa & Iwaizumi’s Apartment  
Summer 2016_

“A toast!” Oikawa yells. “To the last day of summer!” What he means, because the only alcohol currently present in this apartment is soju, is _Let’s do a round of shots._

So the bottles are passed around, the soju is carefully measured into plastic cups, and eventually, as end-of-summer parties do, the solemnity of the moment starts to hit. Sure, there’s still the chaos of an ongoing game of Smash on the couch and the Miya twins arguing about something in the kitchen, but a sense of finality hangs over the room.

“Next summer someone else is going to have to host these,” Oikawa says, finally giving voice to what they’ve all been thinking. His apartment has been the site of these get-togethers for the last three years. It’ll be hard to find a replacement.

“It’s not gonna be the same next summer,” says Tanaka, a little misty-eyed. 

Tetsurou’s kind enough not to point it out, but Tsukki has no such qualms. “Are you crying? They’re leaving, not dying,” he says, even more unfiltered now that he’s got a few shots of soju in his system. (“Aw, Glasses-kun, tsundere as always,” coos Oikawa.)

A couple more shots later, Tetsurou heads out to the balcony with Tsukki. This is partially because Tetsurou needs some air and partially because Tsukki wants to escape the impromptu karaoke session that’s getting started inside. As they lean on the balcony railing, the strains of Tanaka and Noya warbling in English _Although we’ve cooome to the end of the road, still I caaan’t let go_ float out through the screen door and into the night air.

“You know, earlier at pickup, some of the campers said to me ‘See you next summer’,” Tetsurou says thoughtfully. “It made me realize that they don’t know this is my last summer. I feel like I should’ve said a better goodbye to them.”

“You can always come back and visit,” Tsukki shrugs. 

“Oh, yeah? Should I pretend to be escaping kidnappers and burst into your classroom again?”

“Sure, then you can fall into my arms again.”

“Aw, Tsukki, just say you’ll miss having me around,” Tetsurou says, because whether or not they’re dating, giving Tsukki shit is something he’ll never give up. The resultant furious scowl on Tsukki’s face is adorable. Before he can think about it too much, Tetsurou leans down to kiss it off his lips. 

They only pull apart when Tanaka cuts himself off mid-song, yelling, “Hold up! _Hold up!_ Did anyone else know about this?!” The instrumental continues in the background, but it’s muffled by the sound of everyone talking over each other all at once; Tetsurou can clearly make out Bokuto whooping, “ _Get it, bro!!!_ ” over all the frantic chatter.

As they turn back to face the screen door, Yamaguchi smiles angelically at the people gathered in the room, and holds his hands out. “Pay up.” Around the room, multiple people reluctantly pull their wallets from their pockets, passing hundred-yen bills over to Yamaguchi.

Tetsurou thinks Tsukki might be a bit betrayed that his best friend was betting on his love life, but he just smirks and calls through the door, “You’re buying me a full-size strawberry shortcake with those winnings, Yamaguchi.” 

“This is _so_ unfair,” Oikawa whines, unpeeling himself from Iwaizumi’s side to root through his pockets for his wallet. “Freckles-kun _obviously_ had inside knowledge.”

Eventually, when it becomes clear that Tsukki’s not going to answer any questions about what’s just transpired, the chatter dies down and the karaoke session resumes. They stay out on the balcony for a while, until Akaashi raps his knuckles on the doorframe. “Kuroo, come on, Bokuto’s falling asleep. We should get him home before he passes out.”

“Aren’t you gonna give your _boyfriend_ a kiss goodnight before you go?” Oikawa hollers through the screen door, probably still a little bit salty about losing money to Yamaguchi. Tetsurou flips him off, and then kisses Tsukki again, just because holy shit, he can just do that now whenever he feels like it.

When they come back up for air, Tsukki points out, “You know you’re really just giving them more fuel, Kuroo-san.” Through the screen door, at _least_ four people are obviously Snapchatting this moment.

“Hey, you just had your tongue in my mouth. I think you can call me Tetsurou at this point,” Tetsurou grins, and leans in for another kiss.

“You are _insufferable_ ,” says Tsukki, against Tetsurou’s mouth.

Tetsurou pulls back a few inches – Tsukki unconsciously leans forward a little bit to chase his mouth, which is the cutest fucking thing – and gives Tsukki his best shit-eating grin. “Yeah, but I think you’re kinda into it.”

Tsukki rolls his eyes, a look of fond exasperation on his face. “Ugh. I guess I am.”

“Well, I’ll see you later, Tsukki.”

“You just had your tongue in my mouth,” Tsukki parrots Tetsurou’s earlier lines back at him. “I guess you can call me Kei at this point.” As Tetsurou stands there, slack-jawed, he shoots him a smile. “I’ll see you later, Tetsurou.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the music yamaguchi is playing at the beginning of the chapter is [paano?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44sBqrYszpA) ("how?") by apo hiking society. the full line is _subukan mong magmahal, o giliw ko / kakaibang ligaya ang matatamo_ , which translates to "try to love, my love, and you will find a new level of happiness". some subliminal messaging there for tsukki :^)
> 
> the epilogue is coming tomorrow for tsukki's birthday! thank you for sticking around so far, i hope you're enjoying the ride!


	7. epilogue: another summer's day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another summer at another museum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finishing this story up with a birthday update for tsukki! happy birthday tsukki light of my life!!

_National Museum of Nature and Science, Tokyo  
Summer 2030_

“Daddy,” says Hoshiko, clutching at Tetsurou’s hand, “what if it’s really, _really_ bad and nobody likes me?”

She’s three months into first grade, and it’s her first ever day of summer camp. Her black hair is tied back into two little pigtails, her golden eyes shine behind her brand-new pair of glasses, and she’s wearing a t-shirt patterned with little stars, a pair of cargo shorts, and light-up sneakers. From his very biased perspective as her father, Tetsurou thinks she is the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. He’d sent a text off to Kenma this morning saying exactly that, with photographic proof attached. ( _Hard to believe someone so adorable is related to you_ , Kenma had texted back. _Tell her I like her shirt._ )

“Trust that I am leaving you in very good hands, starshine.” Tetsurou squeezes her hand reassuringly. They walk up the path to the museum’s back entrance, where the camp counselors are supervising morning dropoff. Hoshiko clings to his hand the whole way, her steps growing slower and more reluctant with every passing moment. _Time to break out the big guns_ , Tetsurou thinks. 

He waves down a passing counselor. “‘Scuse me. Do you know where the ops lead is? I have a question about extended day.” 

“Ah, he’s over there, sir,” says the kid, gesturing to a clump of people standing a couple of meters away. Privately, Tetsurou thinks this is hilarious – _he’d_ never referred to a parent as _sir_ or _ma’am_ or anything of the sort when _he_ worked summer camps – but he stifles his laughter and walks Hoshiko over to the very tall, very blonde, very unimpressed ops lead.

“ _Papa!_ ” squeals Hoshiko, and launches herself at Kei. Kei smoothly passes his clipboard off to a counselor and gathers Hoshiko up into his arms; he swings her around once, a small but genuine smile on his face, before putting her down gently on the ground. “‘A question about extended day’?” he asks Tetsurou, over her head. “Really? You’re picking both of us up after extended care ends, and you know it.”

Tetsurou offers his most ingratiating grin. “What if I just wanted to say hello to my favorite ops lead?” 

Kei rolls his eyes and gently shoves his shoulder in lieu of his usual _Shut up_ , then bends down to talk to Hoshiko. “Hoshiko-chan, you’re going to be in this group with Matsuoka-san and the Lunar Explorers camp, okay? Can you introduce yourself to them?”

“U-um,” squeaks Hoshiko, suddenly rendered shy by the presence of so many new faces, “my name is Kuroo Hoshiko! I’m six years old! I’m in first grade at Meika Elementary. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Not the worst summer gig you could've picked,” Tetsurou says, as they watch the other campers introduce themselves to Hoshiko. 

“You know I'm just filling in for Suga this week, since he’s on his last week of paternity leave.” Kei rolls his eyes. “I'll be back in the lab next Monday.”

“Handy that you're doing your PhD so close by, though,” Tetsurou points out. “You could’ve been like Oikawa, doing a PhD all the way in Los Angeles. Definitely wouldn’t be able to take a week off to be an ops lead then.”

“Nowhere in Japan has astrobiology programs,” Kei shrugs, “but dinosaurs lived all over the world. You can do paleontology anywhere.”

“That’s my genius husband,” Tetsurou says, just to see Kei blush. “About to become Japan’s leading paleontologist.”

“Ugh, be quiet,” Kei grumbles, ducking his head to hide the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Around them, the camp counselors start to call out different camp titles, shepherding their campers into the museum for the first day of summer camp. “Ocean Adventures!” “Science Superheroes!” “Lunar Explorers, time to head inside!”

At this last call, something small crashes into Tetsurou’s legs with the approximate force of a tsunami. Kei steps behind Tetsurou, steadying him with his hands on Tetsurou’s shoulders, and smoothly saves him from falling on his ass in front of a hundred campers.

Tetsurou’s about to make a joke along the lines of _Wow, it’s been fourteen years and I’m still falling for you_ , but then Hoshiko looks up at them, eyes big and glistening, and asks, “Daddy, Papa, do I have to go with them?”

Kei kneels down, pulling her into a hug. Tetsurou has seen this sight many times in Hoshiko’s six years on this earth, but it _still_ makes his heart melt every single time. “You’re going to be just fine, Hoshiko-chan. The kids in this camp all like outer space, just like you. I think you’ll have a lot of fun with them.”

Hoshiko still doesn’t look convinced. Tetsurou can almost see the gears turning in Kei’s head as he calculates just the right words to convince his anxious daughter. _Here it comes._ “And after camp today, Uncle Tadashi and Auntie Hitoka are taking us out to Onigiri Miya.” 

“Really, Papa?!” The concept of her favorite restaurant _and_ her favorite not-really-relatives in one dinner makes Hoshiko’s eyes widen. (Tetsurou’s still trying to figure out how to explain that out of Hoshiko’s many, _many_ aunties and uncles, only Uncle Akiteru and Auntie Satomi are actually related to them by blood. He figures they’ll get to that whenever they start making family trees at school, or whatever it is kids do these days.) 

“Really,” confirms Kei, a small smile on his face. “Now go on, Matsuoka-san and the other campers are waiting for you.”

Hoshiko backs away, then makes one last run over to Tetsurou to give him a quick, tight hug around the legs. “See you later, Daddy! See you later, Papa!” She sprints back to the other campers, and they start to make their way inside.

They stand there quietly, watching the campers head into the museum, until Kei asks incredulously, “Are you tearing up? It’s just like her first day of school. You know she’ll be fine by lunchtime.” 

“Shut up, let me have this moment,” says Tetsurou, swiping at his eyes. “They grow up so fast.”

“Sentimental old man,” Kei scoffs, but his eyes are suspiciously misty, too. 

Tetsurou rolls his eyes fondly, ducking in to peck Kei on the cheek now that the campers are gone. “Alright, the lab calls. I’ll see you later, Kei.”

Kei smiles and, lightning-fast, presses a kiss to Tetsurou’s cheek. Even after all these years, it still makes Tetsurou’s heart skip a beat. “See you later, Tetsu.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _And this will be  
>  The one moment that matters  
> And this will be  
> The one thing we remember  
> And this will be  
> The reason to have been here  
> And this will be  
> The one moment that matters at all_
> 
> — ["The One Moment"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QvW61K2s0tA), OK Go
> 
> as this story comes to an end, i want to say a huge thank you to you, the reader, for sticking around till the end of this story! i hope you enjoyed it. this was my first time writing for haikyuu (despite having been into haikyuu since 2015 lmao); in the midst of what has been a very stressful year, i had a lot of fun writing this self-indulgent fic. the world is extra wild out there, so i hope all of you are taking care and staying safe this fall <3 
> 
> to see me yell about s4 part 2 of haikyuu (coming out friday!! omg!!) and catch fic updates, you can find me on twitter [@tadhanastar](https://twitter.com/tadhanastar)!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! if you like this fic, consider leaving a comment and/or retweeting the [promo tweet](https://twitter.com/tadhanastar/status/1296299787638063104?s=20) here :^)
> 
> i'm on twitter [@tadhanastar](https://twitter.com/tadhanastar/) if you want to yell about haikyuu with me!
> 
> this fic updates on wednesdays!


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